Shadow of Secrets
by Ellagne
Summary: Renae Lloryn has always been on the shadier side of the law, comfortable in the shadows of dark deeds and darker motives, and is surprised to be caught up the struggles of the failing Empire she loathes; especially if the Divines had a hand in it.
1. The Prison Escape

_Authors notes_: Please note that I don't have much writing experience, so constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I will try to make this story different than other MQ retelling, and I know loads of people say that for their stories. A big thanks to my cousin on RainbowTeddyNinjasUnited for betaing my story, and my friend emmy20211 for telling me to hurry up and post this.

**Chapter 1 – The Prison Escape**

"STOP CRIMINAL SCUM! YOUR DAYS OF LAWBREAKING ARE OVER!"

The Dunmer flinched and turned to see an Imperial soldier running in her direction. _Shitbuggercrapdamnshitbuggercrapdamn,_ Renae thought as she quickly removed her skeleton key from Ontus Vanin's front door and slipped it up her sleeve.

"Were you talking to me?" the Dunmer asked smoothly.

"Of course, you're the only one here."

_Bugger, _she thought.

"You're under arrest."

"Under what charges, _sir_?"

The guard narrowed his eyes at her borderline insolence, but answered her question. "Trespassing and stealing Hrormir's Icestaff."

The Dunmer frowned_. I'm losing my touch._

"Now come along. Quietly, please." The guard reached out and roughly grabbed the Dunmer's arm, towing her away from Ontus Vanin's House.

Renae had to resist the urge to attempt to escape. Inside her head, an interesting monologue could be heard: _Don't kill him. Don't kill him. Remember what Boethiah taught my ancestors. Wait, where's the bastard taking me? Oh, the Imperial Prison. Fantastic. I mustn't be as good as I once was. Or it was the fact that we always gave ourselves up, after. I never understood that. Why not just tell the guards beforehand? But I'm getting off-topic. The Imperial Prison. Right. I'm totally screwed._

_~.~.~_

Renae was thoroughly pissed. Despite her profession, she had never been in prison before. It was truly a shitty thing. Now she knew what all those other guys felt, and she hadn't even been in here for more than a day! The first thing Renae had done was check her surroundings, looking for weak points in the stone walls or some other way to escape and crevices to hide in.

Nothing.

The Dunmer had stopped her exploration when she heard another voice from the cell opposite.

"I must surely be dead, and in the halls of Azura to look upon such a vision. You are so beautiful, my dear Dunmer maiden. . ."

Renae looked up, surprised, and walked toward her cell door, her movements slow and wary.

"You know, I could use a favor one of the guards owe me to get us put in the same cell. Would you like that?" The voice called again. Renae's eyes finally focused through the thick darkness saw another Dunmer – one who looked quite old, as her sharp eyes noticed dull gray hair and wrinkled skin that hung loose on his bones. She also noticed he was staring at her chest.

Her mind immediately screamed out: _Pervert_ _alert! Pervert alert! _

Renae narrowed her blood red eyes and hissed "I'd rather walk into the Deadlands then be touched by you. Filthy outlander." The other Dunmer cackled. _Insane, _Renae thought.

"Feisty, eh? The guards will soon beat that out of you, such a shame."

"I'd like to see them try." She snarled from her cell. The other Dunmer cackled again, much to Renae's displeasure. In the dim light, Renae could make out his suggestive grin. It took all her self control there and then not to throw something at him. Though it was a good idea. . . . .

Renae turned away in disgust from the other Dunmer and plopped down on the slightly damp dirt where they couldn't see each other. After a few hours of staring at a dull stone wall, her glazed-over and out of focus eyes began to droop closed. Renae decided to let her eyes shut completely and rested her head against the filthy stone wall, a pressure on the back of her skull told her her chop sticks were still in her hair, surprisingly.

Renae tiredly wrenched her chop sticks out and dropped them beside her, shaking her hair out of its messy bun. As it turns out, having a nap is a good way to pass the time until you wake up and get very restless.

When Renae woke up to the other Dunmer's choice words to the patrolling guard, she began to pace around her cell like a confined nix hound, getting rid of the rest of her drowsiness and thinking longingly of Vvardenfall's Ashlands, or at least a few bonelords, Ash zombies and/or corprus creatures. Reaching up to pull her fingers through her knotted hair, Renae realized how it must resemble a rat's nest. Out of sheer boredom, Renae finger combed her hair as best as she could. The Dunmer's hair was brown, so dark it appeared almost black.

The Dunmer redid her hair in the 'stick twist' – something which took a long time, thankfully. After a while, a guard came down to feed the prisoners. What he served could not have been called 'food' and thus Renae did not eat.

Renae remembered that she had managed to sneak her skeleton key into prison with her. Creeping to the door, the Dunmer thanked Boethiah that the prisoner in the opposite cell was sleeping, and slipped the skeleton key into the lock. Working blind, Renae tried to pick the lock, but even being unbreakable it wouldn't open the cell door. Cursing quietly, she pulled her key out and hid it carefully. Renae paced, beginning to feel very caged and antsy. _Ashlanders are not made to be caged_, she thought.

"Feeling the walls press against you, Ashborn?" The other mer asked maliciously a few hours later. Renae ignored him, trying to focus on the Ashlands in her mind. Night came, and Renae absently settled down to sleep, her imagination fueling wistful dreams of freedom. Renae slept through most of the morning, waking up without any lethargy. _I am not going to need any sleep for a week now_, she thought, and her mental tone turned sarcastic_. I get to talk to Mr. Pervert for seven days until I get tired again. Yippee_.

The other Dunmer (whose name Renae had found out was Valen Dreth) decided he had been quiet for too long and spoke up again.

"You should have some fun befo-"

"Nchow!" Renae interrupted, her tone seething with venom, and scowled.

Valen continued anyway. "No matter what your standing in Vvardenfell is, Ashlander, you'll never see the dusty Ashlands again. It doesn't matter in Cyrodiil, and you'll never see Morrowind again. You're going to die in here!"

"Thank you for your two septims worth." Renae replied dryly.

There was an unmistakable creak of the door being opened and voices could be heard. Renae silently prowled up to her cell door.

"You hear that?" Valen asked, gleefully malicious. "The guards are coming. . . . . for you, Ashborn!" And he laughed.

Renae felt her heart beat faster.

"Baurus, lock that door." _A female voice_, thought Renae.

"Yes, ma'am." _Obviously guards of some type_.

Then an older voice asked "My sons, they have passed from the realm of the living, haven't they?" The owners of the voices started walking down the stairs.

"We don't know that Sire, the messenger only said they were attacked."

The elder voice spoke again. "No, they're dead, I know it."

The guards stopped in front of Renae's cell. The Dunmer eyed the guards warily. _Not the Legion, or any other city guard._

"My job right now is to get you out of here and to safety," The woman stopped talking and glared at the Dunmer in her way. "What's this prisoner doing here? This cell is supposed to be off-limits."

One of the other guards looked embarrassed. "Usual mix up with the Watch, I. . ."

The female guard sighed and shook her head. "Never mind, get that gate open," She looked at Renae, who was cautiously standing at said gate which needed to be opened. "Stand back, prisoner! Don't think we'll hesitate to kill you if you don't obey."

Renae narrowed her eyes. Was that her idea of a threat? _Never shall I tremble or flinch from your power_. Still, the Dunmer decided to retreat to the dark corner of the cell. Only her silhouette and her red eyes were visible, giving her the look of a demon. One of the male guards opened the door and walked in.

"Stay put, prisoner." He growled. _Currently, I ain't going nowhere. I'm not stupid, you know,_ Renae thought_._ The other two guards and the elderly man in an exquisite purple robe walked in. The old man stopped.

"You. . . I've seen you. . . . let me see your face."

Renae's eyebrows skyrocketed. After a moments hesitation, she walked forward, revealing the high cheekbones and dark skin of the Dunmer. The guards kept a hand on their swords, suspicious. The man studied her, and visa versa. She made eye contact with the man's sky blue eyes, unafraid.

"You are the one from my dreams," he continued. "Then the stars were right, an this is the day. Gods give me strength."

Renae's curiosity was piqued. "What in the sixteen realms of Oblivion is going on?" The three guards bristled at either the prisoner talking to the Emperor without bowing or groveling, the fact that she casually mentioned the daedra, or both.

"Assassins attacked my sons, and I'm next. My Blades (_Aha, so that's who they are!_ Thought Renae) are leading me out of the city though a secret escape route. By chance, that escape route leads though your cell."

Renae frowned. "Right, assassins. Fantastic," she suddenly spotted the large ruby colored amulet hanging from the man's neck. "Wait, you're the Emperor?" One of the Blades looked like he wanted to say: _Hello, Captain Obvious_, but held it in.

The Emperor nodded. "Yes. By the grace of the guards I serve Tamriel as her ruler."

Renae spoke again. "Say, why was I sent to prison without a choice? Normally one can pay a fine or go to jail but they just tossed me in here."

Uriel Septim thought for a moment. "Perhaps the Gods have placed you here so we may meet. As for what you have done, it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."

_Eh? "_Placed us here? The Nine? I don't think so."

"Believe what you want. But whose path can be avoided when it is fixed by the almighty Gods?" _Double 'Eh?' . . . . . I'll stick to the Daedra, thanks. Hmm. . . this_ _might be one of the Daedric Prince's idea of a joke_.

One of the Blades spoke up. "Please Sire, we must keep moving," she pressed a stone in the wall and an invisible door swung open.

Renae grinned widely at Valen, who looked outraged and jealous. _Haha, Dreth. Sucker. Sweet freedom, here I come!_

The Blade continued talking. "We shouldn't close this one, there's no way to open it from the other side." She led the way down the passage, with one other Blade, then came the Emperor.

"Looks like his is your lucky day, prisoner. Just stay out of our way," said the last Blade before following Uriel Septim. Renae brought up the rear. "So, you got a name, or will I keep on calling you 'prisoner'?" the Redguard continued.

"Renae. May I inquire what your name is?"

"Baurus. And there's also Captain Renault - she's the lady - and Glenroy."

Renae nodded vaguely, her eyes scanning their surroundings.

Alarm bells in Renae's mind started chiming, and the further they walked, the louder said bells got. Up ahead, the other two Blades and Emperor stopped. Renae froze, every muscle in her body tense. Looking around, Renae was sure she saw a shadow move. She blinked – and thus missed the red-robed agents spring out of their hiding places.

The assassins sprang down wearing Daedric armour. They felled the Captain, taking her by surprise. Instinctively, Renae leaped away as a mace flew at a high velocity towards her neck. She jumped toward one of the agents who was fighting Baurus. The agent didn't know what hit him as Renae grabbed his head and twisted it as hard as she could, only stopping when she heard he satisfying _crack! _of his neck snapping. Lithe as a cat, Renae sprang back, rolling, as a red mist encircled his body, then faded to reveal a man in crimson robes with a matching hood.

Renae grabbed the katana from the fallen Blade's body as she came up, not wanting to be unarmed, as Glenroy was finishing the last assassin then rushing to the Emperor. She looked around, then at Uriel Septim.

"You called these guys assassins?" Renae asked skeptically. "The attack hadn't been thought out, and they just rushed out, like barbarians," she waved one arm in the general direction of the crimson corpses. "They aren't assassins, they aren't properly trained. If the attacks are as sloppy as this one was, then we will be fine."

Baurus' eyebrows skyrocketed, Glenroy glared and Uriel Septim looked slightly amused.

Glenroy got back to business. "I'll take point, lets move. Stay here prisoner." Baurus looked like he wanted to argue, but held his tongue. _Wait_, a voice mentally commanded Renae. She had always thought that voice was her inner voice of reason, which didn't speak up often, so she obeyed. The Dunmer folded her arms and watched impassively while the remaining Blades and Emperor filed though the door and the end of the passage and only broke her gaze when she heard the click of a key locking the door.

_Now what?_ Renae wondered. She didn't have to wait long, as almost immediately, she heard heard bricks moving and the squeaks of a few rats. Renae smirked. Too easy. And now she had a way out as well. The woman quickly dispatched of the two rats then slipped on her rings of chameleon. All that was seen was a flicker of air moving through the shadows of the caverns.

~.~.~

Renae stepped through the crumbling hole in the wall, careful not to make a sound. The caverns hadn't been too difficult, aside from 'that fracking zombie'. _By Webspinner, I hate zombies. Get your mind back to now, you idiot! All it takes is a well placed blow and you will be dead as a doornail!_ She berated herself. Cautiously stepping forward, still not making a peep, Renae heard Glenroy's voice. _So we meet again_, Renae smirked as she crept to the ledge to check out said Blade.

"We should find a defensible spot and protect the Emperor until help arrives." Glenroy spoke, and Renae heard the tiredness of his voice.

"Help?" Baurus asked skeptically. "What makes you think anyone's coming aside from more of those bastards?"

Renae's lips curved up again. _Well help just crept up, lads._ Unsurprisingly, more Daedric armoured assailants came skipping up, begging to be skewered on the Blade's katanas. While Baurus and Glenroy ran off to comply with the assassins death-wishes, more assassins came out from nowhere to attack the Emperor. _This is where I dash in, whipping those those red robed asses and showing them how to look more stylish,_ Renae thought, casting a chameleon spell as she sprang down beside the Emperor.

The assassin was so focused on the thought of killing the Emperor and the glory he would gain that he didn't notice the ghostly figure of a Dunmer next to the Emperor. When he slashed at Uriel Septim, he was blocked. Recoiling, he tried again, this time raising his mace above his head. He was stunned when a something sharp stabbed through his heart and lungs from the side. After the assassin fell to the ground and was surrounded by the crimson mist, Renae put her foot on the corpse's shoulder and tugged her blade free.

The Dunmer looked around and saw the Emperor battling yet another assassin. _Not bad, for the Emperor, _she thought idly as she crept up. Using the distraction, Renae brought up the katana and beheaded the assassin as her spell wore off. Glenroy and Baurus, having finished off their opponents, walked toward the Emperor and the ex-prisoner. Renae smirked.

"You said to wait until help arrives, and here I am."

A ghost of a smile crept onto Baurus' face, while Glenroy was quite vocal on who 'help' was.

"Dammit, it's that prisoner again! She might be working with the assassins, kill her!" The Dunmer immediately tensed, tightening her grip on her blade and leaning into a defensive stance. Uriel Septim frowned and raised his hand to signal the Blades to wait.

"No, she is not one of them," he said authoritatively. The Blades raised their eyebrows but didn't attack or lower their katanas. The Emperor gazed at Renae, icy blue eyes meeting fiery red. "She can help us. Must help us."

Renae gazed right back. "Those idiots in red dresses haven't seen the last of me."

The old Emperor sent his bodyguards to scout the area to check for any more madmen seeking his blood before turning back to Renae for a more private conversation.

"They don't understand why I trust you. They haven't seen what I've seen. It's difficult to explain," he began, then sighed. "You know of the Nine who guide our fate with an invisible hand?"

"I'm not on good terms with the Gods," _Now the Daedra on the other hand. . ._ "why do you think I was locked up?" Renae replied impassively.

Uriel continued on. "I've served the Nine all my days and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are lit with uncountable sparks, each a fire and each a sign. I know these stars well and I wonder which ones heralded your birth?"

There was a moments pause. "The Shadow."

Uriel didn't react in any way, like he expected the answer. "The signs I read show my life's finish. My death, a necessary end will come when it comes."

"What about me?"

"Your stars are not mine. Today the Shadow shall hide you from destiny's cunning hounds." _That sounds like someone I know. . . . _Renae thought. It took a moment for the words to fully sink in.

"You have a nice way of wording things," Renae commented. "I wonder if you can read my path?"

"My dreams grant me no chances of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death. But in your face I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's blazing glory may banish the coming evil." _And to think I don't even worship the Nine. . . . _

A peaceful look spread across the old man's face. "With such hope, and the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied."

In the tone of his voice, Renae observed something. "You sound like you don't fear death's embrace." She noted approvingly. To her, death wasn't a foe.

"Death is only life's next great adventure. I have lived well and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. they know their doom, but not the hour. In this I am honored to meet my appointed fate, then fall."

_More Emperor-talk. He's got some good lines, though._

Glenroy and Baurus arrived back, alive and kicking with a few more scratches on their armour. The group continued on, and eventually a question popped into Renae's head. _Where are we going?_ When she recited the question to the Emperor beside her, he answered her with a grim look.

"I go to my grave," Baurus and Glenroy looked quite anxious and uncomfortable at this point. "A tongue shriller than all music beckons me. You shall follow us for a while, then we shall part."

They walked through a passage with several high ledges – perfect for watching without wanting to be watched. Once again, there was a clanging of chapel bells as she felt that they were not alone. _I love my sixth sense,_ Renae thought, as more assassins jumped down from the mentioned ledges. The Dunmer shook her head as she heard the two guards shout "For the Emperor!"

_That's not how you do it_ _if you aren't trying out a new form of suicide_, Renae thought with a mental head shake as she crept toward the nearest assassin. Using their distraction to her advantage, she pulled out a rusty dagger and sheathed it in the first opponent. Blood spattered everywhere, but Renae didn't care. When she got to the next assassin, she waited for the perfect timing then pushed him into Glenroy's blade and got the Altmer effectively kebabed. With the last assassin, Renae was about to clobber him into a wall and snap his neck, but Uriel Septim lunged forward with surprising agility and smoothly slashed his chest with his silver sword, before beheading the assailant.

The group continued on, hoping that there won't be anymore hindrances. They were wrong, however, when Glenroy stepped toward the gate that they were meant to continue though and realized it was locked.

"The gate has been barred from the other side! A trap!" He yelled with frustration. Renae resisted the urge to whack her head against the wall as she thought: _Oh, yes! Tell those goddamned s'wits where we are! You should put that anger to good use, there are bound to be more assassins around that need killing._

"Here, let me see if I can pick the lock." She said patiently as Glenroy kicked the door and scowled at nothing in particular. Renae delicately pushed the Blade out of the way and grabbed her skeleton key from her boot. Carefully inserting the metal, she tried to raise the tumblers, but to no avail. Swearing under her breath, Renae took out her precious skeleton key while Baurus and Glenroy discussed other options.

"What about that side passage back there?"

"Worth a try, lets go."

As they turned around to backtrack to the side passage, Renae played forward scout and darted in front of the group to check there were no dangers that needed to be eliminated. She didn't have to worry, as no threats were present, and the Emperor with his Blades walked into the room.

"It's a dead end, sir. What's your call?" Asked Baurus. Before Uriel could give an answer, the sound of a gate swinging open and cries of "For Lord Dagon!" pierced the air. Renae shook her head. Baurus cursed and ran out to battle yet more enemies. Glenroy called to Renae "Stay with the Emperor. Guard him with your life." Before running out to join his comrade.

Renae prowled the room as the sounds of battle could be heard, cutting down an assassin who got too close to the doorway when she passed. Eventually the Emperor pulled Renae aside and spoke to her.

"I can go no further. You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not get the Amulet of Kings!" the Emperor took off the large red amulet and held it out for the woman. _No, not Mehrunes Dagon! That fracking s'wit. _"Take the amulet. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son. Do this and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."

There was one more question Renae wanted to ask. "Why me?"

Before the Emperor could answer, the sound of stone sliding open was heard, and an assassin jumped out from a hole in the wall, casting a paralyze spell and pushing the Dunmer to the ground before sliding his blade through the Emperor's heart. Uriel Septim was dead.

Growling, Renae leaped to her feet when the paralysis wore off quickly, raising Captain Renault's katana in a challenge. Under the conjured helmet, the assassin grinned. "You chose a bad day to take up the cause of the Septims, stranger."

A dark look crept on Renae's face. "You chose a bad day to mess with me, n'wah!"

And they circled, wearing holes in the stone until the assassin lunged forward, hoping the strength of his attack would knock the slim Dunmer down. But she twirled away, graceful as a dancer, ready for the next attack. The assassin put both hands on his mace and brought it in a sideways slash, but her katana blocked his weapon. Not wasting any time, Renae brought her foot around his knee and yanked, sending him off balance. Quick as a serpent, the Dunmer grabbed the assassins mace, twisted it away, and plunged her blade through armor, flesh, lung and spine, twisting the blade as it slid in. The assassin crumpled and fell, once again red mist encircling the dead man's body.

After a while Renae realized the sounds of battle had ceased. Baurus came in, his armor and katana ruby with blood. Seeing the Emperor crumpled on the ground, he rushed to the Emperor's corpse.

"Talos save us. We've failed. I've failed," he whispered, then realised something was off, "wait, where's the Amulet of Kings?"

"Don't worry, lad. The Emperor gave it to me." Renae spoke quietly, and held out the amulet for Baurus to see.

A humorless chuckle escaped from Baurus' mouth. "Funny. He saw something in you and trusted you."

"A world-first, if I might add." Renae replied.

"They say it's the Dragonblood that flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than the average man. The ultimate symbol of the Emperor, the Amulet of Kings is. Most think its the Red Dragon Crown, but thats only jewelery. Only a true Septim can – could wear it. But it's too late." Baurus said, his head bowed in defeat.

"There's always a backup plan, you know. Especially if one knows they are going to die."

"Eh?" came Baurus' confused reply.

"Before he died, the Emperor gave me the amulet and told me to find Jauffre. He said there was another heir, apparently." Renae explained.

"Nothing I've ever heard about, but Jauffre would know. He's the Grandmaster of out order, under the guise of a monk at Weynon Priory, which is just out from Chorrol. But first you'll need to get out of here. The passage should lead to the sewers. There will probably be some rats and goblins, but you should be fine. The sewers lead to Lake Rumare. Then you only need to get to the Priory." Baurus replied.

"Should be no problem. But why do you trust me? I could easily just throw away the amulet and go my own way." the Dunmer asked the Redguard.

Baurus' posture now radiated: _if_ _you do, there will be trouble_. "You will do what he asked, won't you. The Emperor trusted you, you wouldn't abuse that, would you? Not to mention this concerns all of Nirn, not just Cyrodiil."

Renae mulled things over then sighed. She couldn't risk this problem coming to Morrowind, where there were more than enough problems already. _I cannot believe I am going to do this. . . I must be going crazy,_ she thought.

"I hold little love for your Empire," she admitted, "but I am in your Emperor's debt, so I will do it. But I don't want to get involved further." Baurus nodded with satisfaction. A thought occurred to the woman. "What will you do?"

He gave a small smile. "It seems the Emperor's trust in you was well placed. I will stay and guard the Emperor's body, and make sure no-one follows you." Looking over the Dunmer, he noticed Renault's katana.

"I see you brought the Captain's katana. I wonder if you would mind letting it have a place of honor in our halls?" He asked cautiously.

Looking at the sword at her hip, and thinking of her own beloved weapons, Renae made up her mind. She unbuckled the belt and passed it to the Blade's outstretched hand.

"Take it." she muttered.

"Thanks. Here's the sewer key. Hopefully I don't need to explain what it's for. And good luck. With what's likely to happen, you'll need it."

Renae took the offered key then was about to slink away when a question occurred to her. "Where's Glenroy?"

A saddened face answered her question. Realising that it was a mistake to ask, Renae quickly said, "I'm sorry. Oh, and don't blame yourself for the Emperor's death. Death is only life's next great adventure." Without waiting for an answer, the Dunmer activated her two rings of chameleon and slunk away, thinking about what she might find on the path that had been so recently set out for her. She could sense something other than danger in this. . .


	2. Gullible Guards

**Chapter 2 – Gullible Guards**

Renae stood on the shores of Lake Rumare. The sun was setting in the evening sky, turning the world shades of gold, orange and red. The lake was a mirror image of the sky, making it blood red spanning out to orange with golden highlights. The lone Dunmer standing at the sewer exit was covered in muck, grime and blood – suggesting the figure had come from that foul smelling place.

Renae pondered on the best course of action. Should she go straight to this Jauffre? Or should she seek out S'krivva? Or contact Armand and let her know she was out of the prison? Or even move back to Vvardenfell and forget this ever happened? _The last option seems a little extreme,_ she thought. The sun sank lower in the sky while every possible outcome of each scenario played through Renae's head.

Finally, Renae made up her mind – she would find Armand and let him know she was back in business, and she would get her possessions back. But first, the Dunmer needed a good bath.

Renae looked around to make sure nobody was nearby, then quickly stripped to her under garments and waded into the water, sending bloody ripples through the lake's calm surface. The Dunmer washed most of the grime off her body and clothes, then slipped the dripping garments back on. Staring at her reflection, familiar crimson eyes stared back. Renae twisted to the left, then the right, checking to make sure it didn't look like she came from the sewers. Renae turned away started towards the Waterfront.

Carefully treading around and over the rocks on the beach, while keeping an eye out for mudcrabs, Renae made her way to the Waterfront. Once there, the Dunmer realized that she was still technically a prisoner, and there were guards on the Waterfront. _Better safe than sorry_, she decided. Better no-one but Armand and her fellow Thieves Guild members knew she was here.

Cautiously sneaking around he outskirts of the small dwellings, Renae made her way to Armand's shack. Peeking around the corner, she saw a guard patrolling down the street. Renae patiently waited until he was out of sight, then looked around to make sure that no more guards were present, and darted around the side of Armand's shack. The woman knocked twice on the door. Nothing happened. After seven seconds, Renae stamped her foot and knocked three times in quick succession. This was the knocking pattern that Thieves guild members used to distinguish fellow thief from the rest of the population. This code changed every once in a while, and it also told fellow thieves how long its been since you had checked in. Armand opened the door and a look of surprise crossed his Redguard features. Renae gave him her best smug grin.

"I'm back in business," was all she said before Armand ushered her inside and locked the door.

Inside the tiny house – if it could be called that – the Redguard and Dunmer each took a seat. Armand broke the silence first.

"So?" He asked. "What happened?"

"I got arrested when I tried to take the Icestaff back to Ontus' place. I assume the guards took it back to the Arcane University. The cell I was placed in had a secret exit, and the Emperor himself came down to use said exit. I tagged along, and here I am." Renae explained.

Armand's eyebrows knitted into a frown. "And what of the Emperor? There's a rumor Uriel Septim is dead, along with his sons."

Renae kept all emotion out of her voice and actions when she said "It's true. They're dead."

They fell into silence. Renae started fiddling with the rusty dagger she had found in the sewers. It acted as a memory jolt, and the Dunmer remembered something of great importance.

"Say, my junk is being held in the Imperial dungeon. Do you reckon you could get someone to reclaim my stuff? I would do it myself, but I am still technically a prisoner." Renae asked almost uncomfortably, gesturing toward her wrist irons. _Say, I need to get rid of them and throw them in the lake,_ she added silently.

"It feels different being a client, doesn't it? Still, I will organize something. If your lucky, maybe even tonight. Perhaps Methredhel is up for a little thrill. . . ." He trailed off. "Anyway, you need somewhere to stay."

"I'll just go hang out with Dynari. I'm sure she won't mind." The Dunmer replied with a straight face.

"_Right_."

~.~.~

In the darkness of an alley, Methredhel grinned. This would be a nice challenge. Eyeing the guard posted in front of the door, the Bosmer summed him up. Fit, but lazy, and looked like all he wanted to do was have a nice drink or nap. He also looked like he could be bribed, one way or another. Having finished that task, Methredhel walked out of the shadows, toward the guard.

Noticing a presumably young Bosmer with large, doe like eyes and a quiet, if not sneaky aura, the guard nodded his head and spoke his greeting of "Ma'am." Not wanting to waste any time, the Bosmer spoke in a slightly nervous voice.

"Good evening, sir. I was wondering if you could open the door and let me in. I have a friend I wish to see."

The guard became suspicious. "At this late hour? If I may ask, why are you here at this time of night? Can't you come back in the morning?"

Thinking quickly, the Bosmer replied "I got held up on my travels and I must leave early in the morning. I came now hoping I could see my friend. I promised I would, and I have money to pay you with."

The guard was almost convinced. "That's a generous offer, miss, but no."

In the corner of her eye, the Bosmer noticed something. Turning her head and pointing, she gasped and said, "What on Nirn is _that_?"

As the guard turned to try and spot what the woman had seen, something solid collided at high velocity with his head. With a groan, he slumped to the ground as unconsciousness claimed him.

"Nighty night." Methredhel muttered with a smirk as she sheathed her shortsword and quietly crossed the threshold to the Imperial Prison. Creeping in the shadows, the woman came up the corridor and saw the Jailer sitting at a desk in the middle of the room in front of her. Methredhel pondered on her next course of action. After a few precious minutes had passed, the Bosmer decided on her course of action.

Casting an invisibility spell on herself and, keeping to the shadowy walls, she snuck up to a torch. Stretching as high as she could, Methredhel blew on the flame and it went out with a _poof_. The Jailer looked up.

"W-who goes there?" He asked nervously. Luckily for Methredhel, the Jailer was highly gullible.

Grinning, the Bosmer didn't answer, but went up to the next torch and repeated the process. Outside, a breeze had struck up and the gale added to the affect. The wind whistled under the door as the last flickering flame died and left the room dark. The Jailer couldn't take it anymore.

With a scream, he fled the Prison, crying.

Methredhel shook her head, snickering. _Guards are so gullible these days!_

Using the skeleton key Renae had kindly let her borrow, the Bosmer, still chuckling, went to the room where the prisoner's items were kept. The invisibility spell stopped working when she slipped the key into the lock. Missing the rhythm of the tumblers, Methredhel expected the skeleton key to break. When it didn't, the Bosmer felt a jolt of surprise. Taking it out of the lock, Methredhel took a look at the object on great detail, before remembering what she should be doing and slid it into the lock again. This time she successfully picked the lock and the door swung open.

Going to the first chest, Methredhel opened it – to find steel armor. _Wrong one,_ she thought and continued opening the chests until she found the right one. When she tried to carry the entire chest away, she realized that would not work. The box was too heavy. Methredhel sighed exasperatedly. _What has she got in here?!_

After a few minutes of wondering what to do, cursing Renae, insulting the Dunmer's mother and generally getting herself worked up, she decided to cast a feather spell on the chest and whisk it away.

Methredhel crept out of the Prison, being extra careful. She nearly slipping over something wet in the corridor and snickered as she passed the unconscious guard outside. With _Operation: Steal back Renae's Junk From the Prison_ complete, the Bosmer crept back to Dynari's house.

~.~.~

The night was dark, and the moons was covered with thick clouds. Outside the Imperial Prison, The guard was wondering what had just happened. Scratching his head, he felt a throbbing lump on his skull. It stung when he touched it and wondered: _How did I get that?_

~.~.~

Renae was sitting at Dynari's table, her boots on the table and a drink in hand. Dynari was scowling at the Dunmer and her boots.

"I would really appreciate it if you took your boots that have been who-knows-where off the table." She gritted out. Upon hearing the tone Dynari used, Renae immediately removed her offending feet off the table with, "Sorry, Dynari."

"Thank you." Dynari said, the scowl fading from her features.

After about half an hour of sipping alcohol, idle comments and general boredom, someone knocked at the door. Dynari and Renae stared at the door, waiting for the sequence that singled out Thieves Guild members from the average person. When the person had finished knocking, Dynari left her seat and opened the door – revealing Methredhel carrying a large chest.

"How much crap do you _have_?" The Bosmer asked as the Dunmer jumped up and took the burden.

Dynari snickered and Renae snorted. "Lots. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go change into my crap. And I'll also have my key back, thanks." Renae held her palm up, waiting.

Methredhel dropped the skeleton key into the Dunmer's hand and sighed, "I wish I had one."

Renae grinned. "They're pretty rare." _And this is the only one I know of_, she added silently.

"You can use my spare bedroom if you want." Dynari offered, interjecting on the Mer's conversation.

"Thanks." Renae said as she ascended up the stairs and into Dynari's second bedroom.

Once in there, Renae locked the door behind her. Putting the chest on the bed, and pulled out her skeleton key. Carefully slipping it into her wrist irons, she unlocked them and pulled the first one off. Repeating the process on her left hand, the Dunmer slipped off the metal, revealing a black tattoo encircling her wrist. Renae recalled some of the memories associated with the tattoo, some good, some bad. Pulling open the chest, Renae found her hand stitched leather pants and similar cuirass. Quickly pulling off her salvaged cuirass of similar make, Renae slipped on her comfortable leather armour and the same with the pants. Renae shook her head. _Those pants they give the prisoners are disgusting,_ she thought. Digging around, Renae found her bracer. The Dunmer slipped it on her left wrist, making sure it completely covered her tattoo. Then she grabbed her leather gauntlets then finally slipped on her special boots. They had a fortify sneak, agility, speed and acrobatics enchantment. Also, they were thin enough to be able to sneak very easily in. She buckled her belt, with a few different pouches, around her waist.

Finally, the Dunmer buckled her beloved swords – both elven, though they had a low level drain fatigue enchantment – around her hips, letting them dangle comfortably, then she slid her many daggers into various sheaths.

Grabbing her three rings, one ebony, one Dwemer and the Ring of Khajiiti, Renae put them in her belt pouch, since they all had chameleon enchantments. Then as a finishing touch, she put on her necklace. The necklace was a piece of ebony with the Urshilaku symbol engraved on it and strung on a thin piece of leather. It was a family heirloom, one of great importance to Renae. She felt around in her salvaged cuirass until she found the Amulet of Kings and hid it in her belt pouch, with her three rings.

Finally finished, the Dunmer left the chest where it was, Dynari could keep it, and walked back downstairs.

As she descended the stairs, Renae noticed Dynari had Spell Breaker, the shield Peryite had rewarded her for helping his followers, and her pack.

"Thanks for minding my stuff, Dynari. And thank you, Methredhel, for getting my stuff. I'll see you guys sometime." Renae said, slinging her pack over her shoulder and grabbing the Dwemer shield.

"It was no problem, Rae." The Bosmer snickered while Dynari merely inclined her head. With everything taken care of, Renae left Dynari's house.

The Dunmer made her way towards the Chestnut Handy Stables, where her black and gray horse, Moonshadow, was stabled. Nodding vaguely towards the unsuspecting guard, Renae exited the Imperial City. Once at the stables, Renae groomed and saddled Moonshadow. Leaving some septims in her horse's stall, Renae mounted her powerful mare and they rode off into the night.


	3. Weynon Priory

**Chapter 3 - Weynon Priory**

Moonshadow pawed the ground and nickered. Renae, who had been breaking camp, looked up and sighed.

"Impatient creature." Renae had decided to camp at the edge of the forest for the rest of the night, and now looked around once to make sure nothing suggested someone dodgy had stayed here. With her job finished, the Dunmer grabbed a carrot from her pocket and held it out to the mare. As if she was royalty, Moonshadow delicately removed the carrot from Renae's extended hand and chewed, burping to signal she had finished. The woman chuckled as she clambered onto the animal's back and they continued on their way to deliver the amulet.

A merchant riding a bay gelding rode nearby. Renae believed he thought riding near someone as heavily armed as her would deter bandits. Or, if it didn't, she would bail him out.

"Good day." He greeted, moving closer. Renae nodded in return. The Dunmer felt Moonshadow shift beneath her. _Uh oh_, she thought.

"Watch out for my ho–"

Moonshadow lunged toward the gelding, and bit the other horse's neck. The bay gave a horse-scream and reared.

"Hey!" The merchant shouted angrily, scrabbling to stay on the beast.

"Moonshadow!" Renae yelled, tugging on her reins to get her horse away. "I apologize for Moonshadow's behavior. She likes preying upon other horses."

The merchant looked up from calming his mount. "Ah. . . ."

~.~.~

The merchant turned on to another road, and looked back at the Dunmer.

"Good day." He said, slightly cold.

Renae ignored him and they went their separate ways. So far, there hadn't been much trouble, and it was unnerving to the Dunmer. _Where are the fanatics?_

Horse and rider continued on their delivery journey, and around midday, the Dunmer remembered the forest around Chorrol. _This place brings back memories, most not good, _Renae thought with a shudder. Recalling how she and Dar-Ma had stayed in the Priory during the night, Renae having just rescued the Argonian from some lunatics who were planning on sacrificing the poor girl.

"_We are almost at the Priory, quick! If we ride fast enough we can get to safety!" Dar-Ma called over her shoulder. Renae ducked a low-hanging branch and glanced behind her._ Those guys must be fracking desperate_, she thought, noticing the villagers were still in hot pursuit of the two women. Renae heard the twang of bows and hissed as one of the projectiles landed in her arm. Swearing profusely, Renae spurred Moonshadow faster, and the horse gladly complied. The dark horse lurched forward, overtaking Dar-Ma and Blossom. More bows twangs and arrows landed in nearby trees and in Blossom, not mentioning Dar-Ma. Renae winced and heard the fiendish hoots of triumph from the Brethren. Renae turned in the saddle to see the Argonian lagging behind, Blossom was tiring and her wounds did not make it any easier. _

"_Shit." Renae muttered. _

"_Duck, Dar-Ma!" Renae yelled, and the other woman complied. Renae's hand pulsed red and she threw a fire spell, manging to engulf two of their pursuers in hot flames. The others hung back, trying to save their friends and stay out of the Dunmer's range of fire. For some reason, Renae felt her strength sag dramatically the moment the spell left her hand. One word came to mind: _Poison_. The Priory was now in sight, a few dozen metres away. The horses hooves thundered, now on the dirt road. _

_Two priests came out to investigate, wondering who would be visiting at this hour. The Argonian and Dunmer rode up to the two priests, breathing heavily from the poison winding its way through their systems. The fact that their hearts were thumping furiously in their chests made it all the easier for the poison._

_Dar-Ma nearly fell out of her saddle, exhausted from recent happenings. Out of the corner of her eye, the Argonian saw the Dunmer dismount in the same fashion._

_Renae's feet hit the ground and she stumbled, wincing, her legs jellified. Dark wisps invaded the edges of her vision, before claiming the rest of her senses and the Dunmer fell to the ground, unconscious. Dar-Ma's knees gave way and she fell too, a second later._

Renae shook herself back into reality, but she could have been shuddering from recalling what happened. While she had been remembering past memories, Moonshadow had slowed to a walk, as if remembering this place also. Not only that, but the outline of Weynon Priory was now visible. Shifting her weight, the woman spurred Moonshadow into a canter, enjoying the breeze, and letting it dry the sweat on her face. When she dismounted, Moonshadow whinnied. This brought Eronor, the hostler, out to investigate, and a raised eyebrow from Renae.

"No, I do not intend to pass out this time. But if you see any freaky-eyed n'wah, let me know." She told her horse.

The stablehand came up to welcome Renae. "Welcome to Weynon Priory. Is there someone you wish to see?"

"Yes, there is someone I wish to see. Is Brother Jauffre here?"

Eronor nodded. "Brother Jauffre is inside, upstairs to the right."

He took Moonshadow's reins and led the horse to food and comfort, while Renae went inside. Brother Piner looked up as she entered and smiled.

"Well look who's here. No angry, raving villagers after you this time?"

Renae smiled – she liked this man. He had a sense of humor, surprisingly, no matter how small. "Nope, hopefully. I hope they get run over by a rampaging daedroth. Damn s'wits."

Piner frowned. "You shouldn't wish such things against others, even if they may wish worse on you. The Nine punish those who are unjust." He scolded.

"I'll bear that in mind." _Not_.

"The Nine do forgive those who work for it." Brother Piner spoke, then went back to his book. _Damn priests, always going on about repentance and holiness, _Renae inwardly grumbled as she lightly sprang up the stairs. At the top she turned right, just like Eronor had said, and saw the gray haired priest she wanted to see.

"Brother Jauffre."

The monk looked up from what he was writing, a slight frown on his face. _Probably not his day, especially if he's the Grandmaster of the Blades,_ the Dunmer thought as she walked up to his desk. The room had a cozy feeling to it, and everything was in order. _This guy would most likely notice if I nicked something. . . _.

"Yes? I presume this is important." The Breton's hawk-like eyes scanned the visitor, vaguely recognising her as the one attacked by Hackdirt's residents.

"I presume this area is safe to talk in without eavesdroppers." She replied evasively, and Renae noted with amusement that the man nearly took it as an insult.

He nodded, and his frown deepened. Renae gave a slight nod of satisfaction.

"Down to business. I was sent to give you this." The Dunmer pulled the Amulet of Kings from her belt pouch and placed it on the table, watching intently for any reaction, and keeping her hand on the chain.

"By the Nine! This is the Amulet of Kings!" Renae kept her face blank_. I think we already worked out that it was the Amulet of Kings. No need to shout it out. _Jauffre eyed her with suspicion. "Who are you? What do you know about the Emperor's death?"

"I was. . . . er . . . in prison when the Emperor came to use a secret exit that was in my cell. I tagged along and when the Emperor was struck down, I was sent to find you."

The Breton considered this for a moment then said, "While your story sounds strange, believe you. Only the destiny of Uriel Septim would bring you here playing Delivery Dunmer."

Renae let a small smile tug at her lips. _Delivery Dunmer, that's a new one,_ she thought. _Time to make a quick getaway before I get hauled into this helluva big mess_, she turned to go. "Well, with that done, I'll be leaving now. Good day."

Jauffre had other ideas. "Wait. I need you help."

_Crap._

The Dunmer raised an eyebrow. "You need my help? Can't you just order you Blades around to save the world? I want no part in this."

"I think the Emperor had other plans for you. but if you would much prefer to rot in prison, we can make that option available."

_Shit._

"I need you to go and get the illegitimate heir."

_Never shall you have rule over me_, the ancient verse echoed in the Ashlander's mind. Renae struggled to keep her expression neutral.

"I can understand that you need help, but I'm not the person. You have no authority over me."

"My earlier threat still stands, you know."

"Why not just order your Blades to go and pick up the heir? If those assassins know about the secret escape route, then they'll probably know about the heir. It will make no difference how you get him."

Now Jauffre was scowling. "If you retrieve Martin – that's his name – then those assassins won't know where you are taking him."

"Until they track us and try to attack us."

"And if you can handle an attack in the sewers, you should be able to pick them off in the open."

Renae sighed. _That is stupid. And he's just stalling. He should know better than that_. She did not like this one bit, but the thought of going back to prison was not a nice one, even if he could catch her. _Better not rik it_.

"Fine." She growled.

"Good. The heir is currently living in Kvatch and is a priest. Hop to it."

_Great, I'm gonna get a non-ending lecture about why the Daedric Princes are bad and the Dunmer are really retarded. Not mentioning any of my other hobbies._

The Dunmer wheeled around and exited the Priory, muttering under her breath. Jauffre was certain what she was saying involved his mother, the Nine Divines, and a drunk Xivilai. The Grandmaster of the Blades frowned. The Dunmer's feet never made a sound when she walked.

~.~.~

Moonshadow suddenly whinnied and reared up, her forelegs flailing wildly. Holding on tight, the Dunmer wondered what could have spooked the horse. They were a long way away from Hackdirt, and Renae couldn't see or hear anything threatening. All she saw was the green of the forest, and the road.

Renae took deep a breath. It was then she noticed it. The smell was weak, like it was coming from somewhere far away – like, say, Kvatch – and it smelt like smoke, something familiar to anyone who had been to Morrowind. You didn't need to be Arch-Mage to put two and two together. Renae blanched. Up ahead, she saw the outline of Kvatch, along with boiling crimson skies streaked with lightning, and something very large and glowing.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. I told him this would happen. I fracking told him! And it fracking happened! Damn it all to Oblivion! Moonshadow," the horse calmed down a tad at hearing her name, "we need to get there ASAP!"

Spurring her gray and black mount to a gallop, the blurred scenery flying past, Renae prayed to whatever entities that were up in the sky, or Oblivion, or Morrowind that her instincts were wrong.

But, like most times, Renae's instincts were right.


	4. The Gate

**Chapter 4 – The Gate**

Moonshadow's hooves thundered up the dirt road to the fallen city, and Renae's heart sped in her chest. Lightning whipped through the sky, lighting the earth up like day before the crackling _BOOM! _of the thunder. Moonshadow shied at each flash and sound, skittering around like a newborn foal, with Renae swearing and trying to calm the animal. Eventually, they made it to what looked like a small refugee camp. Very small. About a dozen heads poked out to see who would visit such a sorry sight, and a few stepped out.

Renae looked up at Kvatch. It was a hellish nightmare, from what she could see. _Tell me I don't have to go in there,_ she mentally begged.

The Dunmer dismounted, hooked her shield onto her saddle and gave her horse a reassuring pat with some words of praise.

"What the hell happened here?" Was the first thing Renae asked, turning to the survivors.

"Kvatch has fallen, a portal from Oblivion itself opened during the night! Daedra swarmed through, killing, burning, destroying! And then something worse appeared, it obliterated what was left! We're doomed! Run while you can, stranger. It's only a matter of time before the city guard fall, and the daedra come for our blood!" Someone in near hysterics screamed, before grabbing his few salvaged possessions, and fleeing the hellish sight.

This statement did little to help with the mood of the environment.

Renae was silent for a few minutes to let what had been said fully sink in.

"Anyone else want to share what happened?"

Silence. If the crickets hadn't been squashed by the rampaging daedra, then this moment would have been their cue.

In order to attempt to break the silence, Renae said the automatic reply one uses for these situations. "Aha."

A child spoke up. "Are you going to go up there?"

Crimson eyes settled on the boy, who shivered uncomfortably. "Currently, I don't have a choice."

The boy's eyes widened with terror. "W-why?" He asked, shivering again, this time with fear.

"Because I need to find someone named Martin, and something tells me he's in the city."

An older man, who wore the robes of a priest, looked up sharply. "Martin? When the daedra attacked, he rounded up the nearest people and took them to the chapel."

Renae nodded slowly, absorbing all the information.

"Right," she turned back to the child. "See? I need to go in there." The boy squeaked in terror and fled to his mother. Muttering to Moonshadow to stay put, Renae took a deep breath and trotted up the dirt path to Kvatch.

"Hold up, civil-!" One of the guards called, interrupted by the daedra pouring out of a fiery wall which blocked the entrance to the city. Renae raced the rest of the way up the incline, drew her twin swords, and lunged at the nearest, which also happened to be the toughest, enemy. The daedroth roared, complimenting the scenery nicely, and lunged in return at the nimble dark-skinned woman. She danced out of the way, and again as the creature sprang at her. Blocking one set of claws, Renae ducked under the other set and rolled under it's arm. Coming up behind the beast, Renae was lashed by it's tail. Renae ignored the pain as best she could, springing up onto its lower back. She hissed at the agony in her ribs and thighs, but never the less slowly climbed to it's neck to plunge her swords in it's skull. It roared in fury and pain, and Renae fell off the beast.

The captain of the guard walked to Renae. "Nice work, but this isn't a place for civilians."

"I need to get into the city." Renae replied levelly, picking herself up off the ground.

The captain snorted. "Just in case you didn't notice, there is a dirty great gate to Oblivion standing in the way."

"I did notice, thanks. But that only complicates my objective."

He raised his eyebrows. "Which is?"

"That's my own business." She said firmly.

The captain studied her for a moment. "Well, you can go into the gate if you want to, but I'm not going to get my hopes up."

"Okay." Renae said off-handedly. The captain drew back, surprised. Renae guzzled a healing potion, then paid none of the gawking men attention as she treaded carefully to the gate. Renae thought, _At least I'm probably better to deal with this, since I am a Dunmer. Azura guide me. _

Renae took what might be her last breath on Nirn and stepped through the glowing and hissing portal–

–into the Realm of Mehrunes Dagon. Renae surveyed the land around her. Red clouds like the ones surrounding Kvatch grumbled with thunder. The ground was barren, there was no lakes, streams, or trees like the ones on Nirn. Only spindly plants, great lakes of lava and roaming daedra. It was fairly warm, by Dunmer standards. Overall, it was quite a gloomy and demonic place.

_The Deadlands. Ugh. Well, didn't I say to Dreth that I would rather walk in here than be touched b-ackk!!_ A churl had spotted her and lobbed a fireball in her direction. Renae tried to dance out of the way of the spell but was too slow. The fireball hit her in the side, where it tickled as she gasped in surprise and brought her blades up just in time to block a blow. She and the churl locked weapons with each other. Renae slid one of her swords up so she could lock her opponent's mace in between her blade and the hilt, and swung her other sword at the churl's midsection. Renae slashed through his dark mage's robe and through the flesh underneath. She danced out of the way of a weaker frost spell, this time with more success. Renae leaped to the side, using her greater speed and agility to her advantage as she hacked at the churl's shoulder.

Howling in rage, the churl spun, whirling his mace around at the Dunmer's head height, only to be blocked again by one of her blades. Ignoring the churl's other arm, she plunged her other sword through the diaphragm of the churl as a heavy fist pounded her jaw, creaking it's hinges. He snarled, clawing at the air where Renae had been a split second ago as he crumpled and fell to the ground. Renae smiled coldly, her eyes glittering dangerously. Renae grabbed a healing potion from her pack and gulped the soothing mixture down, feeling the pain ebb away from her body. Renae knelt and stripped the corpse of anything of value, including slicing open the churl to obtain his heart.

During this process, Renae was sprayed with thick dremora blood, and wasn't fazed one bit. Blood was spilled all the time - it meant nothing to her. After, Renae wiped the blood off of her and her swords with the churl's robe, so it would be harder to smell her. She had known a few people who had gotten killed because their targets had good noses.

Renae put all her loot in her pack, which had been spelled by a mage so it could carry much more than a normal pack and also had a feather spell on it. Standing up, Renae looked around and spotted large towers. _I'll bet that is where I need to go,_ she thought and headed off toward the looming place.

After killing a few more daedra, Renae came to the door of the largest tower. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. Renae bent down to get her skeleton key from her boot and slip it in the lock. Her skeleton key slipped right out again. The tumblers had been spelled so only the right keys could get in the lock, let alone open the door. Renae bit her tongue against a string of profanities, and stuffed her skeleton key back in her boot. Letting her eyes scan the barren environment, Renae noticed one of the smaller towers. Looking up, Renae saw a small bridge connecting from the small tower to the largest one.

_Yes! _

Renae wound her way to the other tower, clambering over boulders and killing scamps. Finally, she was at the base of the smaller tower. This time the lock obeyed when she pushed her skeleton key in it and manipulated the tumblers. when Renae set the last tumbler in place, there was a satisfying click and she removed her skeleton key. Carefully, expecting trouble on the other side, Renae opened the door, smelling a strange combination of meat and metal.

Nothing. It was unnerving, the silence, broken only by the dripping of what sounded like blood. Tense, Renae walked into the room. There was some type of elevator with spikes tearing through the rough material. Most of the room was covered in gore. This was the point where a lesser man's stomach would probably rebel, but the Dunmer showed little signs of distress as she walked over the bloody floor, sidestepping innards, and approached a gore covered switch.

Silently, Renae thought things through.

The Dunmer grabbed the switch and yanked it down, cringing at the noise it made and turned around to see the elevator start to rise. Throwing caution to the wind, Renae bolted to the rising platform, slipping over a few times in her haste. Renae sank into a half-crouch before springing up to grab the edge of the platform.

Her bloody gloves slid for a few moments on the bloody platform before tightening her grip and lifting her leg up onto the edge and rolling onto the elevator. Renae let her mind wander back to Nirn, trying to ignore the blood which now covered most of her body, hair included.

The elevator continued its journey upward unhindered, until it reached the top. Edgy, Renae quickly jumped off the elevator onto another platform, skidding a bit. There was a cage dangling in the center of the tower, conveniently placed over the elevator with the spikes down the bottom. A small, inconspicuous door was placed about ninety degrees from the switch which obviously controlled the cage. Renae made a beeline for that door, not stopping to think that it led to a tiny bridge set hundreds of feet up in the air over lava.

Pushing it open, she froze. After a few minutes of persuading herself, she got down to the ground and slid on her rings, not wanting to be seen, just in case. Crawling on her belly, Renae slowly made her way across the tiny walkway, determined not to look down and panic. _You can do it, don't look down, you can do it, don't look down, you can do it, don't look down, you can do it, don't look down_, Renae chanted in her mind. Once, about halfway, her body froze up, and Renae spent five minutes encouraging herself to start moving again.

After what seemed like forever, Renae was lying on the other side. Still under her chameleon enchantment, she slipped quietly through the door, moved sideways and crouched. The walls were dark gray, made out of the strange material that was neither stone nor metal. Before moving forward, Renae looked around to make sure there wasn't any enemies. A scamp trotted around the room. Renae stalked it, about to sink her blade into it's skull when there was a loud _sshhhiiinngg_, and the scamp was suddenly skewered on a metal spear sticking out of the wall. Renae made a mental note to look out for lethal objects around the rooms.

The halls were fairly devoid of life, aside from the occasional scamp or clannfear. They didn't notice the rippling outline ghost past them. Continuing upward, the Dunmer wondered just how big this place was when she heard something. Renae immediately skittered back into deeper shadow and listened.

"Just kill me now, you filthy cur." A voice growled. A human voice.

"And to spoil the fun? I want to see you writhe in agony first, see you tortured by watching the mortals captured from your city die slowly and painfully." A low, guttural voice answered. _Nice guy_, Renae thought dryly.

"If that's the case, you're going to be waiting a while."

"I doubt that, mortal." There were clanking footsteps, quickly fading away.

Renae, keeping to the shadows, crept up the inclining pathway. There was a man, one of the Kvatch guards, in one of the cages, this one over lava. The daedra was no where in sight. Stepping out from the safety of the shadows, Renae approached the guard, motioning for him to stay quiet.

"Hello."

"Who are you?" The was a mixture of suspicion and hope in his voice.

"It's not important. I'll tell you what is, though: closing this gate. Any ideas?"

The guard perked up a bit at hearing what the Dunmer intended to do.

"You need to get to the top of this tower and grab the sigil stone. The Gat-"

Something large and heavy smashed into Renae, cracking a few ribs and sending her flying into the wall. Renae bit back a groan and got up, minding her ribs, and backed up a few metres. The Gatekeeper was nearly seven feet tall, usual for a dremora, and had blazing orange eyes with red highlights. His hair was a flaming orange, similar to his eyes, and his skin blue-purple.

Renae drew her weapons and raised them in a defensive position. The two traded blows, to which Renae's ribs moaned, studying their opponent's tactics and weaknesses. He swung his warhammer at Renae's side. The Dunmer was too slow in her defense and he thwacked her arm, sending her sprawling. _That's going to leave a bruise, _she thought.

Ignoring her body's protests, she once again got up and tightened her grip on her blades. The Gatekeeper locked his warhammer with Renae's two swords, and pushed down. Renae's arm screamed, her ribs howled in misery and she felt her feet slip – she couldn't hold up long against such a pressing force. Groaning, she let the Gatekeeper think he was winning by jumping back and falling to the ground. Then, when the dremora came over to gloat, Renae grabbed his ankle and sent the strongest shock spell she could currently cast into him. He gave a strangled growl as the muscles in his body spasmed and he stumbled. Renae grabbed one of her swords and sliced through the tough sinews of the Gatekeeper's leg with her good arm. The Gatekeeper spun like a drunken Nord, intending to roar but only grunting his pain and rage as he fell to his knees. Renae raised her weapon again, this time hacking through his neck. Thick, gooey blood sprayed from the sliced arteries in the dremora's neck – though Renae hadn't been able to entirely behead the Gatekeeper, half of his neck was disconnected. Parts of his spine, windpipe and other veins showed through the gruesome wound.

The Gatekeeper collapsed and became very still. Wary, Renae walked away from her presumably slain enemy, watching for any signs that he was still alive somehow.

"The Gatekeeper has the key! Quick, take it and close this portal!"

Renae glanced up. She had forgotten about the guard in the cage.

"What about you?" She asked.

"I don't matter, Kvatch does. Go!"

Renae nodded as she turned back then stripped the corpse of all valuables and stood up, moaning. Her arm throbbed and her ribs shrieked at almost all movement. She locked gazes with the guard and told him, "Thank you for your help. May your gods grant you a place of peace. Goodbye."

The guard nodded impatiently. Renae turned and walked as quickly as she could, which wasn't very fast, up the ramp, not looking back once.

Continuing up, there was a large door up ahead. There was no one patrolling the twenty feet between the Dunmer and the door, so Renae raced as quickly as her body would let her towards it. She pushed the key into the lock and twisted it hard. There was a satisfying click and Renae rushed through to the next room. In the middle, a large fiery sphere levitated above a black pedestal. Wasting no time, Renae scooped the ball up. _Now what?_ Renae wondered. One second passed. Two. Three.

Suddenly everything burst into flames. Daedra shrieked and panicked outside and in the buildings. There was a rumbling sound as the towers fell apart like they were being sieged by an earthquake. Renae was falling through a hole in the floor, down towards the lava pool in the bottom of the tower, but nothing hurt her. Renae closed her eyes and prayed to Azura, Mephala, Boethiah, Peryite, Nocturnal and Meridia; not watching the magma getting closer every second. Renae prepared for the end.

~.~.~

Savlian Matius and his men were fighting the latest round of daedra, all tired to the bone. _I bet that Dunmer girl has been killed_, Savlian thought. _Poor lass_. The finished off the last round and stood tense, waiting for the next volley.

"Hey, what's happening?" Liam Bauman, Savlian's second-in-command, called. Heads turned to Liam, who was pointing upward. Heads then turned up to see that the crimson in the clouds was receding, leaving only a gloomy gray. There was a rumble and the guards tightened their hands on their weapons. The Gate to Oblivion was shaking, and a dirty figure flew out, landed with a thunk, rolled aside and lay still. The Gate continued to tremble, the fire in between the two jagged spikes doused by an invisible force, and the pillars fell apart. Rain began pouring down from the heavens, battling the fires which still raged in the city.

The guards looked around, and Savlian spotted the figure that had shot out of the Gate. Savlian approached the person and knelt beside who ever it was. _It can't be that girl,_ he thought. Turning the person over, he saw it _was_ the Dunmer volunteer. _Is she still alive?_ Savlian wondered, watching for signs of life. The woman cracked an eye open, then the other one and looked around. Slowly sitting up, her lips curved up into a triumphant smile.

"I did it." She said. There was a tone of wonder in her voice.

"You sure did. Thank you. My name's Savlian Matius." The Dunmer snapped her head up and flinched slightly when she heard him talk.

"Renae Lloryn."

"I'll say. Want a hand up?" Savlian stood up and offered his hand to Renae, who accepted it, and hauled her to her feet. Renae stuck the sigil stone in her pack then grabbed a healing potion and guzzled it down. The other men and women of the guard had come over to see the filthy Dunmer who had shut the Oblivion Gate. Savlian now turned to them, his face that had once bleak, now was shining.

"Now that that goddamned gate is shut, we can retake Kvatch!"

Cheers erupted around him, and people bashed their weapons against their weapons to their shields in applause and warning to the remaining daedra. Savlian organized his soldiers into formation. He noticed that the Dunmer grabbed a bow and joined the archers. _Good, we need more archers_, he thought.

Savlian started forward, the swordsmen and axemen following close, the archers behind them. They opened the heavy oak doors leading into the city and with impressive war cries, they attacked the nearest daedra, staying in formation. The archers stayed at the door, picking off the nearest targets and covering the other soldiers. The feel of a bow was soothing in Renae's hand. She drew her string back and picked her target, a dremora fighting with the blond axeman. The two broke apart, giving Renae the opportunity to loose. The arrow whizzed through the air and embedded itself in the dremora's breastplate. Distracted momentarily, the dremora gave the axeman the perfect opportunity to strike. He felled the dremora, and moved onto a new enemy. Renae did the same. Grabbing a new arrow, she notched it, whispered an ice spell and shot at a fire atronach. The arrow struck the fire daedra in the chest, and it crumpled to the ground, where Liam beheaded it, just to be safe. Looking around, Renae was surprised to see that all of the daedra were dead.

Staying in formation, the group approached the chapel. It was a sorry sight, the top of the chapel ripped off and lying in the main courtyard. Small fires hissed as they battled with the rain, and lost. Rubble lined the streets, windows broken on buildings. Savlian Matius knocked on the door of the chapel. A female voice answered, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Savlian Matius and the Kvatch guard."

The chapel doors swung open an inch, revealing a middle aged Redguard. she looked at the people standing outside and the piles of dead daedra before swinging the door all the way open. Everyone surged inside, looking around to see the survivors.

Renae found a good space on the wall near Savlian to lean against, close enough to eavesdrop. Scanning the people in the room, she wondered which one she was sent to find. Which one the city had been destroyed for. She saw a man in priest robes, and studied his features. _Nah, too old_, _and he looks nothing like Septim_, she thought.

"These are all the survivors?" Savlian asked the Redguard.

"Yes. There are a few more in the undercroft."

"So few. . ."

"I know. Maybe some more people hid in a basement or something." The Redguard's tone was only slightly hopeful. Not many could've survived, since the daedra cleared out all the houses.

"I doubt it. We have to check, though. But first we need to get the civilians to the refugee camp and then send the rest of the daedra to the waters of Oblivion."

Renae was surprised, though she didn't show it. Not many races other than Dunmer, people out of Morrowind, scholars or Daedra worshipers knew much about daedra. And Savlian Matius didn't look like any of the above.

The two continued their discussion, but Renae didn't pay any attention. A man in his late twenties or early thirties in a plain robe came up in Renae's right.

"The guards say you're the one who closed the Oblivion Gate." He said, appraising her filthy form.

"Yep." Renae flicked her eyes to his, and mentally did a double take. Her face gave nothing away as she stared into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Uriel Septim's eyes. The man had similar features to the recently deceased Emperor, Renae decided.

"Thank you for doing that. It mustn't have been pleasurable."

Renae smiled grimly. "I've certainly done better things before."

The Dunmer shifted her weight and grimaced. Though the healing potions had helped with her wounds, they hadn't healed completely, and it wasn't like landing on a cushion when she came out of the Gate. The priest noticed this. "You've got some injuries, and I'll bet you aren't comfortable standing up. Would you like me to heal you?"

"That would be nice, thanks." Renae said. The priest placed a gentle hand on Renae's shoulder and she sighed in relief when the remaining throbbing and burning eased from her body.

"What's your name?" Renae asked, wanting to find out for certain if this was the heir to the throne.

"Martin. May I inquire yours?"

_Aha_. "Renae."

"All right everyone! Lets get the civilians to the camp! Move it." Savlian called.

Some of the guards left the chapel to check no daedra had reappeared, and led the survivors out of the city. Renae noticed a young Dunmer girl, covered in dirt and soot looking around for a familiar face. Renae slowly approached the child and knelt down to her level. "Do you know where your parents are?"

The girl looked up with large garnet eyes. "Dada said to get out of our home. I don't know where they are." Tears swam in the girl's eyes and Renae decided to act.

"Well, I'm Renae. What's your name?"

"Llalara."

"If you want, I'll take you to the camp and see if your family is there."

Renae held her arms open for the girl, who wrapped her blue-gray arms around Renae's neck. The woman stood up, settling Llalara on her hip. The last of the people including Martin, who was helping an elderly Bosmer over the hazardous ground, were only a dozen metres away. Renae easily caught up with them, ignoring all the stares. Martin looked up and saw her with her burden.

"Is Llalara a relative of yours?"

"No."

Llalara looked up at Renae curiously. "You speak funny." She stated.

Renae raised an eyebrow, amused. "Funny?"

Llalara cocked her head to the side. "Funny."

"I'm an Ashlander."

The girl was shocked, and the other people listening looked confused. "Ashlander? Old tribes?" Llalara asked tentatively.

"Yep." Renae answered, falsely cheerful.

They walked through the broken front gate, and down the muddy road. The rain had lightened, but was still spitting. Reaching the camp, most people looked surprised. Whether it was for finding or not finding someone, the size of the camp, or the fact that they were alive and out of the nightmare. The young Dunmer on Renae's hip squealed in excitement and struggled to get down. Renae put the girl on the worn grass and she took off. A older Dunmer that looked similar to Llalara picked her up and swung her in a circle. They shared a few murmured words and Llalara pointed Renae out. The older girl strode to Renae, who was studying her. The girl looked quite young, by Dunmer standards.

"You were the one who helped my sister out of the city?" This girl's accent was of someone who had grown up in Morrowind, but wasn't native.

"Yes."

The older girl cocked her head on the side at hearing Renae's accent, but instead said, "You have my thanks. When I couldn't find Llalara here, I feared the worst. But I hoped that she would have made it to the chapel." The older girl carried her sibling to a tent, and settled down.

"Are you going to help us retake the castle?" One of the nearby guards asked.

Renae pondered that for a moment and surprised herself by saying, "Yes. . . yes I will."

The guard grinned and said, "Now it's going to be easier, with you there." He walked to Savlian to report the good news.

"All right, guards, lets go get our castle back!" The captain yelled. All the guards cheered again before beginning to get back in formation. Renae saw Martin and a few others approach Savlian.

"Captain Matius, we would like to come along and help as healers and mages."

Renae inwardly groaned. _Now you're just serving yourself on a platter, kid_. To her extreme annoyance, Savlian nodded enthusiastically. Resisting the urge to sigh, Renae took her position. Now the archers had to defend the healers, as well as the other men and their own hides.

The group started forward, through the gate and into the fallen city, toward the castle, picking off any daedra that was within range. Fifty metres off, Savlian, the guards and Renae confirmed their suspicions: the gate to the castle was barred, and dremora archers patrolled he ramparts. Calling back the troops, they retreated out of sight and range of the daedra. Savlian organised a small attack force to go through the chapel undercroft to the gatehouse. Renae decided to sit that one out and volunteered to be a forward scout instead to watch the gate.

Settling down on a large chunk of building out of sight from the ramparts, the Dunmer rested her gaze on the unmoving portcullis. Footsteps approached behind her, but Renae didn't acknowledge who ever it was.

"Do you mind?" Martin asked, gesturing to the space beside her.

"Go ahead." Renae replied, impassive.

The priest sat next to her. Reading her tense body, Martin chuckled quietly, though it was without proper humor.

"You wanna let me in on the joke?" The 'mer asked, flicking her eyes to his for a few seconds.

"You look like you think I'm going to give you a lecture on the Daedric Princes or something." Martin chuckled again.

The Dunmer shifted slightly, uncomfortable, but said nothing.

"Don't worry, I'm not." He watched as the woman next to him exaggerated a sigh of relief.

"Well, then, what did you come to do?" Renae queried. She saw a dremora patrolling along the top of the wall, and her fingers itched with the longing to throw a spell at him. Curbing the desire, Renae looked at Martin again, who spoke slowly.

"Well, I thought it was a bit of a coincidence that Kvatch was attacked and you turned up, not saying why you would come here in the first place."

Behind them, they heard what was unmistakably a squad of Imperial Legion soldiers, who had apparently seen the smoke from the Gold Road. Renae ignored them and answered Martin.

"Suspicious. Aren't you priests supposed to preach about faith in your Gods, and how being able to break this siege is a blessing from the Nine." Martin looked uncomfortable at her mentioning it.

"After witnessing what happened here, how could I not have a splinter of doubt? Why would the Nine let this happen? But you still haven't answered me. I've never seen you before, and I doubt you have any kin here."

"I _absolutely loathe_ to get in a religious discussion, but, what if your Gods let this happen so a greater purpose can be achieved? But you have a valid point. And, I have never been here, you're right. Believe it or not, but I was sent to find you and take you to Weynon Priory. And no, I don't worship the Madgod."

Martin looked stunned.

"_Me_? Why me? And why Weynon Priory?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Renae noticed that the dremora were drawing back their bows and loosing, but weren't facing out. The heavy doors swung open, revealing the castle courtyard.

"The door is open!" Renae called.

Savlian quickly organised the soldiers and healers, including the Imperial Legion soldiers. They set forward quickly, the archers aiming for the enemy lining the walls. Renae notched an arrow and fired it at an enemy archer, who fell over the side of the wall. Another archer hit a dremora in the eye. Martin hurled an ice bolt at a fire atronach, freezing it over completely. _Note to self: do _not _get on his bad side_, Renae thought, watching how powerful his spells were. The soldiers were now in the courtyard. Daedra streamed into the courtyard. Arrows flew everywhere, clannfear roared, swords clashed and the metallic smell of blood mixed in with smoke hung thick in the air.

Liam swung his heavy weapon down on the skull of a clannfear which resembled a porcupine. Savlian locked blades with a dremora captain, both trying to knock the other off balance. Renae shot an arrow into the small gap in the dremora's armour between his thigh and calf. This distraction was all Savlian needed to break the lock and lop at the dremora's neck. Martin threw a bolt of electricity at a churl. The archer two people down from Renae gurgled as an arrow sliced through his throat.

Renae picked off a churl who had swung his arms up to deliver a killing blow with his mace to the Legion soldier at his feet, hitting him right between his eyes. A clannfear surged forward, grabbing the occupied Dunmer's arm and clamping down tight. Renae strangled a growl in her throat and grabbed a dagger from her belt, thrusting it into the clannfear's skull. A dremora lunged at Martin and Renae twirled around to get in the way, hurling the clannfear's corpse off her arm. The dremora feinted to the left, laughing at the foot long blade in his opponent's hand. Quicker than Renae anticipated, the dremora darted forward and hurled her away, throwing her into a wall. Dazed, the Dunmer blinked and saw the outline of the looming dremora. A bolt of electricity surged into his body from behind. Renae rolled away as the dremora fell forward, sheathed her dagger and picked up her bow.

They finished off the last of the daedra, then let the healers have their way with the worst wounds. Martin tended Renae's wounds, who had a nasty lump on the back of her skull, quite a few bruises, sore fingers, the clannfear bite and numerous scratches and slashes. But she insisted he only treat the bite and the lump on her skull, stating that the rest would be a waste of magicka.

They picked up the pace, speeding through the halls, killing any creature in the way. In the Great Hall, Savlian muttered to Renae when she was close enough to go on ahead and find Count Goldwine. She gladly took off, lunging to the safety of the shadows and creeping along the walls. After picking off a few more daedra, Renae came to a hallway with many doors. Creeping to the first one, Renae opened it a crack. No Count. She went to the next one. No Count. She went to the third one. No Count. The fourth door. No Count. Noticing a door further down the hall, Renae stalked towards it, noticing with dismay that it was ajar. _No_, she thought.

The 'mer peeked through the door. There was the count. Lying face-down. On the floor. In a pool of blood. Renae slipped through the door and knelt beside the deceased Count Goldwine. She searched his body for valuables and noticed his Colovian Signet Ring. _The new Count, if there will be one will probably need that_, she thought. Delicately sliding the ring off his finger, Renae placed in her pocket, along with a few other looted trinkets. Turning, Renae half-crouched as she left, melting into the shadows.

~.~.~

With all the daedra in the Great Hall taken care of, Savlian sent out small groups of the people not to badly injured to look for survivors and anything salvageable. Looking around, he counted how many people they'd lost. Two archers, one axeman, three swordsmen and one of the healers. Savlian turned and started pacing, pondering what they were going to do. He reached the end of the hall and turned the other way to continue. He repeated the circuit three times. On the fourth time, he turned and started. The Dunmer was standing right behind him. _How could I not hear her coming?_ He wondered.

"The place was blown apart, and the count is dead." Renae picked the signet ring out of her pocket and held it out. Savlian cursed and plucked the ring from her open palm.

"I'd better keep this for the next count or countess. Thank you for all you've done, Hero of Kvatch." Savlian clapped her on the shoulder. Renae blushed and looked at the ground. _I don't deserve this_, she thought.

"You're too kind, Captain Matius. Now, I'd best be going."

"Wait! Could you escort the healers back to the camp. I don't trust that we took all of the daedra. Just a precaution." Savlian yelled at the retreating Dunmer's back. _Too easy_, she thought, _thank you Azura_.

"Don't worry, I'll do it."

Savlian grinned, victory lightening his mood considerably. "Go on. Shoo!"

Renae rounded up the healers, including Martin, and set off through the courtyard. The healers looked nervous with only one guard (not counting their own skills) going through the broken and burning streets, so for their comfort and her own, Renae skirted the main square and kept to the sides of the buildings. Every wary, Renae heard a screech, and swung her bow up to shoot the scamp's throat in the window of a house across the street. Ignoring the looks, praises and a muttered 'show off', Renae continued leading the way to the city gates.

They walked down the well trodden hill to the lonely camp at the base.

"Do you have any other family?" Renae casually asked Martin, who was walking near her.

"None that I know of." Martin replied, wary.

_Of course not_. "Well, if that's the case, will you save me from a long and painful death by coming with me to Weynon Priory? As I said, I do not worship Sheogorath, so don't worry. Too much." Though the Dunmer doubted Jauffre could know the thousands of horrendous tortures some people just had a knack for, she knew that he would know a thing or two. One didn't get to be Grandmaster of the Blades by being warm and sweet.

"Are you serious?" Martin asked.

"Well, if that old guy can threaten me into doing this, then I'm sure he could come up with something nasty." _Like, say, my head on a platter, the fantastical Dunmer Dartboard, cutting my abdomen open and letting me see my innards before I bleed to death, strategic cuts and bruises, letting me freeze in a barren environment with a few frost atronachs, choking me via my windpipe, slicing my neck at just the right angle so- _

The priest frowned, and Renae wondered for a split second if he could read her thoughts.

"I was actually referring to the fact that _you_ want to take _me_ to Weynon Priory." He was grateful for what she had done, but he didn't want to admit that she did intimidate him a little. Someone who had scars like that had obviously done something really dangerous or crazy.

"Think of it this way, Dagon's flunkies won't raid the refugee camp if we leave now. If you stay, a raid is guaranteed." It might be considered cruel or hitting below the belt to play on a priest's emotions, but Renae just wanted to go. She had been worn thin by the gate and the siege, and really wanted a bath. not mentioning the urge to move, like a nomad, was already kicking in. Martin looked around at the survivors, obviously wondering if he should risk it.

"You wondered 'what the hell is a Dunmer like me doing here?'" Martin's face twisted at her blunt words, but she ignored it. "You thought I had an ulterior motive. I do, and it's to get you out of here and to Jauffre. And I've already told you this." _Then get out of this mess_. Martin looked around again, then weighed the odds.

"Fine, I'll come." He sighed.

"Believe me, I was just the 'Delivery Dunmer'. But you are a lifesaver."

Moonshadow plodded out from behind a tent, nickered when she saw her owner, and made a beeline for the Dunmer. Renae smiled, wrapping her arms loosely around Moonshadow's neck and pressing her face into the mare's mane, comforting and taking comfort; despite the blood, ash, gore and dirt. Martin watched quietly.

"You can ride Moonshadow, I'll walk." Renae offered, though she just wanted to ride the horse herself.

"I couldn't possibly do that while you, a lady and the Hero of Kvatch, walked." Martin argued. _Stupid nobleness,_ the Dunmer mentally frowned.

"Do I _look_ like much of a lady? And I wouldn't care if I was Azura's Chosen."

"You went through Oblivion itself and fought hard." Moonshadow nuzzled Renae's shoulder, asking Renae to just get on her back and ride.

Stubborn as ever, Renae replied icily, "I have a high endurance. And I'll explain on the way, _why_ I was sent in the first place." His curiosity piqued, Martin put a foot in the stirrups and lifted his other leg over. Once he had settled in the saddle, the horse turned her head so she could stare at the man on her back with a orb-like chocolate eye, as if measuring him up.

"Quit eyeballing Martin and start moving." Renae scolded her horse, lightly slapping Moonshadow's rump.

They started forward, and Renae looked longingly toward the forest.

"Shouldn't we stick to the road?" Martin asked nervously. Renae glanced back, stifling a giggle. _Man, I think I'm going slaphappy_.

"I wish we could go through the forest, but the road will be quicker. But those red-robed pansies would stick out a lot in the forest," she said, "and it's harder to track someone through the forest."

"'Red-robed pansies'? And what about bandits?" Martin frowned. Renae snorted. The idea that bandits were a high priority threat was amusing. _Don't get cocky or it will be the last thing you do_, a part of her scolded.

"Have you seen any?"

"What? Bandits?"

"No, some freaky guys in red robes or summoned daedric armour?" Renae queried, scrutinizing his face.

"No."

_Dammit. Wait, shouldn't that be a good thing? But they must've known. . . Kvatch was _not _a lucky guess_. Renae kept all of her speculation off her face, but the priest watched her warily, probably knowing something was up.

"Okay then. Have you seen anyone look at you funny?"

Martin thought back, and did recall a traveling merchant who had stopped by Kvatch stare at him with a strange expression when they bumped into each other on the street, but it was nearly two weeks ago. Martin told Renae everything he could remember from that night, answering her quickly thrown questions as best he could. The Dunmer was silently striding quickly so that Moonshadow had to trot to keep up, thinking things over. _So, they knew. They fracking knew. The question is how. A mole of some sort, very experienced eavesdroppers or the Blades just aren't very good at keeping secrets_.

"So, who are the 'red-robed pansies'?" Martin asked, using Renae's definition.

"Dagon's flunkies. The ones responsible for Kvatch. The ones that murdered your father." Renae said, flicking her eyes to his for a brief moment. Her word's piqued Martin's curiosity, the fact that she knew something about his father, and reminded him that the Dunmer had promised to explain why she was taking him to the quiet priory outside Chorrol.

"What do you know about my father?" Renae glanced back at the sharpness in Martin's tone. _So he does have some steel in him_, Renae thought happily, smirking.

"Enough to say I wish I was out of this mess." She said wryly.

"You also said you would explain this mess." Martin replied. Once again, the Dunmer looked back at the man riding her horse.

"They are both connected, so it saves two explanations instead of one," Renae said, sighing, "Well, I was thrown in prison in the Imperial City. But, lucky for me I was in the cell with the _supposedly secret_ exit. The Emperor and his bodyguards came down to use said exit, and I was allowed to tag along and kill some Dagon worshipers. Good fun." Martin's frowned in response to her words, but didn't interrupt. "Anyway, when we were boxed in, Uriel Septim told me to find the last heir, and give the Amulet of Kings to Jauffre. One of assassins got a lucky shot, and once the fight was over, I went to Weynon Priory to give the amulet to Jauffre, and he told me to find the heir, namely you."

"I can't possibly be the heir to the Imperial Throne!" Martin snapped. Renae grinned at him. O_h, naughty boy, priests aren't supposed to get angry_.

"I apol – why are you grinning like that?"

Renae waved a gloved hand. "Don't apologize, snapping once in a while is good for you. And you were just in hell, pretty much. That gives you a few good excuses," Renae's grin grew wider, "and I'm quite happy you've got some teeth. It means you'll be able to stand up to all those politicians. Anyway, I think it all makes sense, you being the heir. There are bound to be some holes in the story you know. Just think about it."

Martin considered this, silent for a while, before answering, "It makes so much sense it's almost scary."

"I think it _is_ scary."

They rode in silence for a while, then Renae spoke up. "Say, you aren't going to give a lecture on any of my bad habits anytime soon, are you?"

The Imperial chuckled at her tone and worried expression. "No. I know some of you Dunmer are incredibly stubborn."

"And I proudly fit into that category. Thank Azura." Glancing back, Renae noted how Martin's eyes tightened slightly at the mention of a Daedric Prince. _I wonder. . . no, he is a priest, he couldn't have. And besides, it could just be from him being a priest in the first place._

~.~.~

They were at the crossroads to either go to Skingrad or continue North.

Renae chose the path which led to Skingrad, once again to Martin's surprise. When he questioned her about it, Renae merely said that they were both tired and she would prefer to sleep in her own house rather than on the ground, despite her upbringing. And her house had high security, so they would be safer there than in the wilderness. Not mentioning anything about a bath. Martin had a moment of doubt, as suspicion seeded in his stomach, but the priest ignored it as best he could.

Renae sang quietly, turning the old Ashlander verse into lyrics.

"May I shrink to dust

In your cold, wild Wastes,

And may my tongue speak

Its last hymn to your winds.

I pray for the herder

That whistles to his guar at play.

I pray for the hunter

That stalks the white walkers.

I pray for the Wise One

That seeks under the hill,

And the wife who wishes

For one last touch of her dead child's hand.

I will not pray for that which I've lost

When my heart springs forth

From your soil, like a seed,

And your blossoms anew beneath tomorrow's sun."

"What is that?" He asked.

"'Words of the Wind' – an Ashlander verse." Renae replied softly, trying to keep the longing from her voice.

They stopped at the stables, Martin dismounted and Renae led her horse to a stable.

"I'm sorry for not looking after you myself." Renae whispered to Moonshadow. The animal nodded her head, as if to say, _I know_. Then she snorted and flicked her tail in the direction of the exit. Renae gave a carrot to the mare, then obeyed the horse's directions and left the stalls, with the priest in tow. They walked up the road to Skingrad, then Renae froze. Quickly whispering a detect life spell, a few purple-pink patches flared around her.

"Wh-" Martin began to ask, but the Dunmer held up a hand, silencing the question. Her hands slid to her belt to silently draw her swords, her eyes flicked everywhere, searching–

The large pink shape was a blur as a red and silver armored figure sprang out at Martin, and Renae darted in the way. The assassin collided with Renae, and they both tumbled to the ground, trying to drive their weapons into each other. _I bet he's a Nord_. They scrambled around, grabbing at each other and blocking weapons. Martin stood back from the brawl, turning another attacker into an ice statue, and a third into lighting rod. The assassin managed to roll on top of the slim Dunmer, using his superior strength to his advantage. He straddled her hips – but he was so large, he was on top of most of the woman's stomach and thighs – and pulled her wrists up above her head while Renae tried to dislodge the extremely heavy person on top of her. _Ah, shit, my ribs! Curse that Ash creature!_ Renae's ribs shrieked, and the scar from when she had been slashed by an Ash zombie flared in agony.

She thrashed wildly, and watched as a bolt of fire flew into the Nord, burning him quickly as he screamed and died. The assassin collapsed on top of her, and Renae bit back a scream from the added weight. The heat meant nothing, but weight on her was incredibly heavy, Renae was sure one of her ribs just cracked, and wouldn't be surprised if the scar opened up again.

Her attacker was surrounded by the trademark mist before revealing a Nord man. _Bingo_, Renae managed to think. Martin wasted no time in rolling the large body off the Dunmer and helping her sit up.

"I hate it when people do that." She muttered, massaging her ribs with one hand and slipping the other one up her shirt to press against the scar.

"Let me guess: cracked ribs." Martin said, watching the Dunmer.

"Among other things." Renae replied, gasping as her wound throbbed.

"Among what things?" Martin asked, going into full healer mode. Ignoring her own discomfort at the idea of what she was going to do, Renae peeled her leather armor up far enough to reveal the gruesome scar, which was a nasty reddish purple-gray color, and the skin around it was similar to that of a corprus monster. It was weeping a sticky clearish liquid and swelling, Martin looked back up at the grimacing Dunmer.

"What happened?"

"An Ash zombie came dangerously close to our camp once. We killed it with a fair amount of difficulty. I'm not the only one with a scar like this."

"Does it normally swell up like that?"

"If a Nord decides to sit on my stomach or something similar." Renae said as lightly as she could manage, pressing her hand against the injury. _After nearly forty years it still bothers me_, she thought, cursing Dagoth Ur.

Martin wasted no more time and gently removed Renae's fingers. He pressed his own fingers against the old wound, ignoring the Dunmer's flinch, and healed it as best as he could, along with the ribs and soreness. The scar still looked nasty, but it wasn't throbbing badly, and her other injuries were better. The Dunmer got up and sheathed her swords, which were lying on the road. Martin wiped the weepings off his fingers.

"You must be exhausted from the amount of times you've healed someone recently and all the crazies you've gotten rid of." Renae noted. The priest made no indication that he heard her.

Renae wasted no time in thoroughly searching the dead bodies. She found a note which contained a detailed description of Martin. Renae slipped the note in her belt pouch and turned back to the imperial, who although was slightly pale in the moonlight, was unharmed. He noted that when Renae was attacked just then, or more correctly stopped _him_ from being attacked, she almost became a different person. Colder, sadistic, and almost seeming to enjoy killing. But the mask slipped off soon after the threat was eliminated.

"Shall we, Highness?" Renae asked, her mocking tone marred by her breathlessness.

"It's Martin, not Highness." He replied, uncomfortable with the title. The priest collected himself, following the Dunmer through the city gates.

~.~.~

_Author's notes again:_ "_Like, say, my head on a platter. . ._" - Bellamont's mother, anyone?


	5. Report

_Author's notes:_ I'm mixing around some of the events in the Elder Scrolls universe, so the Oblivion Crisis happens before the Nerevarine Prophecies come to light.

**Chapter 5 – Report**

Renae opened the door to her house and held it open for Martin before walking in herself and locking the door behind her. A housekeeper in a plain burgundy dress came down the staircase on the right of the entryway and curtsied clumsily, holding the railing for balance.

"Eyja." Renae greeted the woman.

"It's great to see you, milady." Eyja replied honestly, and glanced at Martin. Renae noticed the look.

"Eyja, this is a friend of mine, Martin. Martin, my maid, Eyja." The two greeted each other politely.

"Uh, milady, you probably should know that Illden is here. He's been staying here a while, actually." Eyja reported, annoyed at the Redguard and pleased that Renae was now here so she could kick him out. The Dunmer raised an eyebrow, then listened. There was the sound of someone moving on the floor above. Renae narrowed her eyes and headed for the stairs, giving her pack and shield to the housekeeper as she passed and prowled up the stairs.

"You should probably stay down here, milady can have quite the temper." Eyja told Martin. As if on cue, someone started shouting upstairs. Martin and Eyja ignored them, both for different reasons.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee, water?" The housekeeper asked.

"Some tea would be nice, thank you." Martin replied, and Eyja bustled off to get the teapot. Standing alone, Martin studied the front room, to distract himself. The house was made of wood and stone, and it had a cozy feel. The fireplace was directly across the room from the doorway, the dining room was to the left and the staircase to the right. There were artifacts and weapons on almost every shelf. Tapestries (_probably made by Eyja_, Martin thought), posters, drawings, large canvases, and paintings covered the walls. Martin studied one drawing and saw it was a landscape of a barren land with a large mountain or volcano in the background, ash falling like snow in the picture.

Still ignoring the shouting match upstairs, Martin looked at the many items on the shelves.

"Is that an Akaviri dagger?" Martin asked Eyja, who had come back into the room with a large kettle full of water and put it on the fire.

"Yes, milady found it in Port Telvannis," Eyja replied, glancing at the item in question. She remembered how Renae said it wasn't fit to be used, only gawked at since it's twin had shattered in her hand when she tried to kill someone with it. Though it did succeed in it's job, fragments had also splintered into Renae's palm and left quite nasty scars there. "Milady believes that a disintegration spell was put on it, since the other one she found broke when she used it." Eyja summarized, serving the tea.

"Thank you." Martin said again as he accepted the drink. The maid began to cook dinner, getting the ingredients from the basement. He watched warily as Renae and an unfamiliar Redguard walk down the stairs. The silence became strained. Remembering her duty as a hostess, Renae introduced Illden and Martin. She gave no sign of having just ranted at the Redguard, but Illden was wary, not wanting to set her off again.

"Smart lad." Eyja muttered to herself.

Dinner was served, and they ate quietly through shepherds pie, vegetables and dessert. After, Eyja washed the dishes while Illden grabbed a bottle of rum and sulked at the small table on the second floor. Renae showed Martin the spare bedroom, promptly kicking Illden out to sleep by the hearth, and then went to have a bath.

The hot water was soothing against her aching muscles, especially since she only now acknowledged the pain fully. The smell of Renae's favorite soap was comforting as she washed the blood, grime and dirt off herself, having to empty and refill the tub several times. After, Renae just soaked in the water until it got too cold. The Dunmer got out of the tub and toweled herself dry, then grabbed a shirt and breeches and put them on. Coming back into her bedroom, Renae took a closer look around her. It was clean, courtesy of Eyja, and nothing was missing, but Renae thought something was different. Dumping her old clothes and towel, Renae made her way to her desk. Newspapers were scattered all over it, one was even on the floor. Frowning slightly, Renae bent down to pick it up and thought, _I'm sure I left these in a pile_. Noticing that some of her quills and charcoal were on the ground, too, Renae collected them as well before getting up and placing them on her desk.

Now Renae looked thoroughly around the room and noticed that it looked like it had been searched. She wondered why someone would search through her desk, there was nothing valuable or anything that could be used against her. Stacking her papers into a neat pile, Renae saw that one of them had a boot mark on it. Running her hand along the wood of her desktop, Renae felt more dirt. There was another boot mark.

Renae opened her door and called out, "Eyja!" The housekeeper came up the stairs, wondering what Renae wanted.

"Have you been looking for anything in my room?" Renae asked.

"No, milady. I only clean your room" Eyja replied. Renae could tell she was being honest.

"Okay, then. Do you know if anyone has been in my room lately, like say, Illden?"

Eyja frowned. "He did go missing for a few hours two days ago, but I know he didn't leave the house."

"Bingo."

With Eyja in tow, Renae found Illden still drinking at the small table overlooking the dining room. "Mind explaining?" Renae asked the Redguard. He looked up at the Dunmer holding the paper with the boot mark.

"It was an accident!" Illden cried, knowing it was better not to lie and tell her what happened. "I needed to write a letter to Armand, so I went to your room to get some paper and a quill-"

"You should have asked Eyja." Renae growled, knowing full well that thieves preferred to be independent. Illden gave Renae a frightened look before continuing.

"I accidentally flicked an empty ink pot-" Renae raised an eyebrow skeptically "-onto that platform above your door. So I jumped and after a few tries I got up and noticed a scroll up there. I got it down along with the ink pot and read it. Here it is, you can read it yourself." Illden quickly handed Renae a faded piece of parchment, hoping to distract her. Renae took the note and quickly read it before handing it to Eyja so she could read it.

"Don't ever go into my room uninvited, and don't search through my stuff again." Renae growled.

"What makes you think I searched through your stuff?" Illden asked, pretending to be innocent.

"Don't be an idiot, it's obvious." Renae replied brusquely. Turning to Eyja, Renae said "Keep an eye out for anything that could relate to this."

"Can I help?" Illden asked hopefully.

"No," the Dunmer snorted, "you would just keep it for yourself, or only give me a small portion. If you do look, I will kick you out of my house and if you try to use my hospitality as a fellow guild member again, I will report you to S'krivva. And then the Watch." _Ohh, nasty_, Eyja thought. Renae murmured a goodnight to Eyja as she passed and retreated up the staircase to her room.

~.~.~

The Dunmer rolled over yet again, groaning slightly. Her arm twitched, and she rolled over the other way. Her left hand slid towards her thigh, groping for an imaginary weapon; while her other hand slipped under her pillow, clenching into a fist. Her legs flailed, kicking back an unseen force, while sweat beaded on her forehead and arms. Lurching up, Renae's ruby eyes snapped open and with a musical _shing_, her right hand flew up with a silver dagger. The Dunmer's chest heaved, gasping, and her eyes scanned the room for enemies or other unwelcome guests. Finding none, Renae slid her dagger back into its sheath underneath her her pillow.

Sighing, Renae relaxed her tense muscles, a process which took longer than normal. These nightmares had plagued her for at least two and a half decades. Renae grabbed the pitcher and a cup from her bedside table, poured herself a glass of water and sipped the cool drink.

Walking to her window, Renae stared out into the heavens. Undoing the string on the bracer on her left hand, the leather fell away. Renae studied the black tattoo in her wrist. _The sign of Webspinner's assassins,_ the words echoed in the Dunmer's mind. Questions slipped into her mind like a stream of water. Why had she been 'chosen by the Gods'? She was a bloody Daedra worshiper! She was merely an Ashlander who had joined the Morag Tong twenty eight years ago and had a knack for thievery. Why did the Aedra decide she was to be the one to help the heir to the Imperial throne? She _enjoyed_ murdering people, stealing, fighting, exploring and searching old ruins. Sure, she would probably be better equipped than the other races to fight the coming war with Mehrunes Dagon, she was a Dunmer.

These thoughts and more unceasingly chased themselves around Renae's mind before her eyelids drooped over blood red eyes and she dragged herself into bed before sinking into sleep.

~.~.~

Martin looked up tiredly from his scrambled eggs as Renae slouched into the dining room. Her dark hair was like a rat's nest, and fell down to about her mid back. Neither of them had gotten much sleep and there was was no question why.

"Morning." Martin said. Renae mumbled something that sounded like "morning" but he couldn't be sure. The Dunmer plopped into the nearest chair, and the Imperial went back to eating. Eyja emerged with a plate of eggs and coffee for Renae, who immediately dug in. Illden was nowhere nearby, which brightened Renae's mood considerably. Martin studied the Dunmer, and wasn't particularly surprised to see the hard muscles on her arms, complete with a few flowing scars.

"Alright, get packed up and we will leave ASAP." Renae told the Imperial when they had finished their meal. Eyja cleared the table, while Martin and Renae went to their rooms to gather their things. Renae made sure she brought most of the healing potions in her stash. Twenty minutes later, with saying goodbye to Eyja, the pair walked out the door.

The day was sunny, with a few clouds. A light breeze whistled through Skingrad and over the hills of the Colovian highlands, rustling through the fields of waist high grass. In this scene, it was hard to believe the nightmares of the previous day. Renae and Martin strode down the road, the former glaring daggers at a nearby Bosmer. After approaching a few feet, he saw the look on the Dunmer's face and retreated. Renae was sick of Glarthir watching her to the point of stalking when she was in town. She knew he thought she was conspiring against him. _If he continues like this, then I _will _conspire to kill him. Crazy Bosmer_.

They continued on through the city gates, passing where they had been attacked the night before. Renae was wary, but there wasn't any assassins, not even the corpses of the assassins. Only a few bloodstains on the dirt remained.

Renae entered the stables and requested one of the stable hands to tack up Moonshadow, sliding a few septims into his palm. The hostler and Martin engaged in casual conversation, while Renae approached the owner of the stable, who was going over some papers in her office. Renae knocked on the open door and Ugak gra-Mogakh looked up.

"Good day." Renae said.

"Hello, Renae. How may I help you?" The Orc asked with a smile. She and the slim Dunmer were good acquaintances, and Renae was one of her best customers.

"Do you have any horses for rent, Ugak?"

Ugak smiled wryly. "What's wrong with Moonshadow? Did you get a warning from the Legion not to inflict that horrendous beast on poor travelers?"

Renae snorted. "I actually need a horse for a friend. I don't know how long it will be needed, though."

Ugak thought for a moment before standing and leading the way through the stables to a sleek strawberry roan gelding with a white stripe on his forehead. "This is Majesty. He is gentle enough to carry children, but tough enough to stand against soldiers and your horse." Renae held out her hand for the gelding to sniff. Turning to Ugak, Renae asked, "How much?"

"One hundred." The Orc replied. Renae held out a pouch to Ugak, who took it and opened it, checking that the Dunmer did hand her the right pouch. She stuck it in her pocket and said to Renae "I'll count the septims out later and give the change to Eyja."

Renae smiled. "Thanks, Ugak."

~.~.~

This time the Imperial and Dunmer did travel through the forest, since Renae claimed it was a shortcut. They had been speeding their mounts up where they could, but roots and fallen branches kept the pace mainly at a brisk walk. Moonshadow eyed the gelding next to her and struck, intending to nip Majesty's shoulder. The larger horse swerved with surprising agility, and snorted.

"Moonshadow, be nice." Renae chided, yanking her away, looking at Martin in a silent apology. He waved his hand, dismissing the incident.

The Dunmer was content to ride in silence, keeping an eye and an ear wary, but mainly enjoying the ride. Martin brooded, feeling a pang for leaving the people of Kvatch, even if his companion claimed this would keep them safe. _Safe,_ he mentally snorted, _nowhere is safe_. The Imperial was also going over the conversations he had had with Renae. She had guessed the Nine let Kvatch fall for a greater purpose. _What greater purpose?_ It was all very confusing. _Why?_ He wondered. _Why me? Why Kvatch? Why now? Why Renae? I don't understand_. Martin gained no insight, and felt very lost and alone.

It was around midday when Moonshadow nickered anxiously and reared slightly. Renae looked around, wondering what spooked her mare, and recognized the landscape. "Smart girl, I wasn't paying enough attention." The Dunmer whispered to the horse and gently tugged the right rein. Moonshadow cut across Majesty and Martin, who was wondering what was going on, and kept on going west.

"Keep up." Renae told Martin as she spurred Moonshadow to go faster. Not needing much encouragement, the dark mare sped up as fast as she could, snorting impatiently when their surroundings forced her to slow down.

"What's going on?" Martin asked as they kept on riding in a large arc.

"Hackdirt," Renae growled as Moonshadow spat a gob of saliva on a rock. "It's residents and I. . . don't get along." Her horse snorted, saying, _what an understatement_.

"Why?" Martin pursued.

"Because they tried to kill Dar-Ma, an Argonian, and then me when I stopped them." _And they nearly succeeded_, she silently added.

"So they will try to kill you on sight?" Martin asked, worried slightly. Renae nodded grimly, and the horse sped up as she spotted the road. The horses reached the road and Renae turned Moonshadow left, toward Weynon Priory.

"Hey, what's that?" Martin asked, pointing at the Priory.

"I don't see anything wrong." Renae replied. Rather than answer, Martin spurred Majesty into a gallop, and Renae followed suit, cursing.

Coming closer, Rene noticed red figures, another man, and sunlight glinting off metal. Cursing, Renae grabbed one of her swords, tossed to Martin who grimaced but caught it, unsheathed her other sword and lifted her shield in a defensive position as Moonshadow reached Eronor and the agent. The agent jumped out of the way and more agents streamed out to help. Moonshadow grabbed one of the agents with her teeth, biting down on his arm hard, which produced a loud scream and giving Eronor an opportunity to kill him. Renae slashed smoothly at one agent as her horse kicked another in the chest, winding him. Martin blocked a mace coming his way, and slid the sword forward so he could slash his opponent's arms. Majesty lashed out at the man, rearing and hitting him in the head with his hooves. Eronor got stabbed in the arm with a dagger and Renae plunged her sword into the agent's unprotected back. Glancing around, Renae realised that all of the agents were dead.

"Where's Jauffre?" Renae called to Eronor, who was being healed by Martin.

"In the chapel. Prior Maborel is dead!" The Dunmer called back. Renae jumped off her horse and raced to the chapel, with Martin and the stablehand in tow. Rushing through the already open doors, Renae and Eronor attacked the armoured assailants, while Martin held back, readying a spell. Jauffre was holding his own well against three of the assassins, two of which raced off to engage the two Dunmer and kill the man behind them. The Grandmaster of the Blades was surprised to see help, but still fought viciously.

When the assassins were dead, Jauffre looked them over, and widened when they rested on Martin.

"The Amulet!" He gasped, and pushed through them to get to the Priory.

"What a nice welcome." Renae commented dryly.

They followed the Breton into the Priory, up the stairs and to the right. A chest had been blown apart and Jauffre was kneeling in front of the splinters of wood, searching for the Amulet of Kings, which was not there.

"So, they got the amulet, but we got the heir," Renae growled, which earned her a few looks. "Fantastic. I feel great that I can do my job, and others loose items of great importance," Renae goaded Jauffre, who would have struck her dead right then if looks could kill. _Right now, I can see where they were coming from when they say Dunmer are better than humans_, Renae thought as she ignored the death glare and turned to Eronor.

"Say, where is Brother Piner?"

"He went to Chorrol to get more supplies." Eronor replied. Renae was secretly glad Piner was still alive, since he was probably the nicest priest she had ever met, excluding Martin.

"Well, we had best head off to Cloud Ruler Temple." Jauffre said.

"You mean: you and Martin had best head off to Cloud Ruler Temple." Renae corrected. Jauffre's eyes narrowed slightly.

"No, I meant you, Martin and I."

"I'm not one of your Blades. I'm not even native to Cyrodiil." Renae replied flatly.

"And the Blades stick out in public, apparently. We need someone who won't stick out so much." Jauffre growled.

Renae snorted. "I won't stick out until any Dunmer hears me speak," Eronor nodded slowly in agreement, "and I thought that the Blades could be discreet."

Jauffre raised his eyebrows. "Do you want to go back to prison?" _Patience,_ Voice of Reason whispered to Renae, who was about to make a insulting reply.

The Dunmer deliberated. _Oh hell, I can't do this!_ Only her pride kept her from groaning out loud. Disgust and loathing flooded through her, but a part of her wanted to stay and help. Not _want_ to. It felt obligated. The Dunmer suspected at that moment that she was being manipulated by someone. How, she had only theories. _What the hell? I don't want to stay. . . . so why am I going to? Ugh, I wish I stayed at home._ Renae turned on her heel and stalked downstairs and outside. The three men stood there for a second before Eronor commented.

"You'd best watch out for her, sirs. Ashlanders are proud and feisty, not mentioning that they still follow the Anticipations."

"'Anticipations'?" Jauffre asked sharply.

"Azura, Boethiah and Mephala. And I would bet that she has pledged loyalty to a few more." Eronor stated. _Great, of all the Dunmer in the world, we get the one who is belongs to barbarians and worships three or more Daedric Princes_, Jauffre grumbled mentally, as he and Martin followed Renae outside.


	6. Traveling

**Chapter 6 - Traveling**

Martin looked at Moonshadow, who once again stretched her neck out to bite Jauffre's gray horse, Winter. Winter flicked his ears back and nickered a warning to the dark horse, while Jauffre yelled, "Control your mount!" to Renae, who ignored him, the disgusted frown that had been on her face for the last two and a half hours still in place. Martin sighed as Jauffre scowled at the young Dunmer, and Renae looked straight ahead with a small smirk on her face, which only infuriated the Breton more. And Martin was sure she knew it. _I think I wish she kept the scowl,_ he thought, watching the tension soar.

"Will both of you just lay off each other?!" Martin finally yelled after watching both of them once again purposely annoy each other. "Renae, stop baiting Jauffre and control Moonshadow. Jauffre, stop yelling at Renae for every little thing."

Jauffre and Renae looked at him. The Breton said "My apologies, your Highness. And I will stop if you say so."

"I do." Martin replied firmly.

The Dunmer smirked and drawled mockingly, "My apologies, Highness." Jauffre looked ready to throttle Renae.

"How dare you use such a tone with the heir!" Jauffre snarled.

"Jauffre, though I am thankful for what you are doing for me, stop. I just told you to lay off Renae," Martin reprimanded him. The Breton blushed slightly, and busied himself with watching for enemies. "Renae, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't speak like that." Martin told Renae.

The Dunmer grunted, and Martin decided to take that as an apology. Silence fell like a mage falling from the sky.

"Why do you have such a problem with authority?" Martin asked after a while, more to distract himself from moping or worrying than to get an actual answer. The morose Dunmer glanced at him, then at Jauffre, who cocked his head on the side without looking at them, with mistrust. She opened her mouth to make a rude remark to the Grandmaster, but Martin picked up what she was about to do and directed Majesty around so he was riding in between Renae and Jauffre, hoping to deter more arguments.

After about half an hour, Martin asked Renae, "Can you tell me more about the Dark Elves? Like the Houses, Ashlanders, the Almsivi, your history and things like that?"

Renae looked at the man riding next to her. "So you know more about our culture when to take the throne?"

"That and curiosity." Martin confided. Natural distrust flowed through Renae, but after a minute she made up her mind.

"Okay, then. How much do you know about the Dunmer already?" Renae quizzed, the mocking superiority back on her face.

"That you are elves, you generally worship Daedric Princes, you come from Morrowind, you have dark skin and red eyes and you don't like outlanders."

"Well, this is probably the most important thing I can tell you: the Dunmeri definition of an outlander is anyone who isn't a _native-born Dunmer_.

"Anyway, there are six Houses in Morrowind: Redoran, Hlaalu, Telvanni, Indoril, Dres and Dagoth," Her tone, which had expressed distaste to all but Redoran, now seethed with hate at mentioning Dagoth, then she continued in a normal tone, "Redoran maintains traditions of settled Dunmer, and they focus on their family and house. They are pretty solemn, though, since they think a light and careless life is not one that should be lived. So, my advice is never to go to one of their parties." She smirked at an amusing memory, then continued.

"Hlaalu revolves around business. Morals come second. They welcome Imperial _everything_. If you get in trouble on Hlaalu ground, you can bribe your way out very easily. Reputation and money is pretty much everything to them.

"Telvanni are a bunch of antisocial mages that live in giant towers. They have some of the largest egos I've ever seen and are quite selfish, only caring about mastering skills and eliminating rivals. They love slavery, believing it is Dunmeri right. These three houses and the s'wit Sixth House are on Vvardenfell, while the other's are on the mainland.

"Indoril are the most supportive of the Tribunal Temple. They used to have the most political power of all of the houses, but most of the leading members committed suicide after Vivec and Tiber Septim made the treaty. Indoril then retreated into Almsivi hierarchy, since Almalexia was Indoril Nerevar's wife.

"Dres has large saltrice plantations, and they are the ones that capture and ship off slaves. Without slaves, Dres would've fallen ages ago. They hate the Empire – more so than Telvanni, Redoran and Hlaalu – particularly the no-slave policy."

"What about House Dagoth?" Martin asked warily.

Renae's expression twisted with loathing. "The Sixth house is something not many outlanders know much about. House Dagoth, led by Dagoth Ur, are a bunch of back-stabbing s'wits. Either they sided with the Dwemer, or they betrayed both sides at the Battle of Red Mountain. No one knows for sure. Either way, House Dagoth betrayed Nerevar and the Chimer. Dagoth Ur's minions are the Ash Creatures – no, they are not related to the Ashlanders in _any_ way – and corprus monsters. Ash Vampires are his nobility, but they aren't typical undead. Hell, all of his minions aren't typical undead, and are damn hard to kill. You can catch corprus from fighting against creatures with corprus, and there is no known cure. The Sixth House is based in Red Mountain, and in certain Dwemeri citadels, but Ash Creatures and corprus monsters roam all over Vvardenfell.

"Then there are the Ashlanders. We are nomads, camping where it is suitable and being driven into the most hostile land as the Great Houses take the better land for themselves. There are four main clans – Ahemmusa, Erabenimsun, Urshilaku and Zainab, but there are smaller tribes out there. Ahemmusa are affected badly by the Blight disease, ash storms and attacks from corprus creatures. They are lead by one of their three wise women, since their Ashkhan has died.

"Erabenimsun are little more than brutes with 'survival of the strongest' being their main philosophy. They attack others often for no reason at all, and they raid the other clans for loot and slaves.

"Urshilaku are quite traditionalist, and are in sympathy with the Dissident Priests since clan Urshilaku guard the Nerevarine Prophecies. But despite that, Urshilaku is the only known clan who has adopted Clanfriends, despite being the most outspoken against outlanders.

"Zainab is the largest clan, and run their own ebony mine. Hlaalu wants to do business with them, and Master Aryon of Tel Vos respects them. Zainab welcomes news and traders from outlanders, and don't care about the Prophecies or the Blight. They have almost given up Ashlander ways."

"That's quite a bit." Martin said, struggling to understand it all when she had used so many unexplained words and names.

Renae shrugged. "It's common knowledge."

"Say, which clan is yours? you said you are an Ashlander, but didn't specify which clan." She grabbed the leather thong and pulled the charm from underneath her leather armor and showed it to Martin.

"Urshilaku." Renae stated.

Jauffre, who had been listening to most of the conversation, glanced at the piece of ebony.

"Ebony belongs to the Empire."

Renae fixed her angry red gaze on him. "This has been in my family, mined from the Ashlands, long before you invaded Morrowind," she spat, "and the Ashlanders follow their own rules and customs, not anyone else's. The only policing we get from the Tribunal is getting killed for being annoying. Not mentioning only very few people, either very brave or stupid, dare to come to the Ashlands, and most die or get chased away by the tribes. We should be allowed to do what we want with our land!"

Jauffre made no reply and looked up at the darkening sky.

"We should probably make camp soon." He suggested. Martin nodded in agreement and Renae shrugged. She didn't care whether they kept on going or not. The Dunmer turned Moonshadow off the road and into the forest. Martin and Jauffre glanced at each other.

"Well, are we going to make camp or not? If so, we should do it away from the road." Renae called back to them. Jauffre indicated Martin go first, then followed the heir. Renae found a nice clearing about fifty meters from the road or so. They picketed, unsaddled and groomed their horses, and dumped their bags on the ground. "So, did anyone bring anything to eat?" Renae asked.

Crickets chirped loudly.

"I thought you had something." Martin said to Jauffre.

"I thought you had something." Jauffre said to Renae.

"And I thought one of you might have had the sense to bring something of your own!" Renae screeched. Snatching up her bow and quiver, Renae stalked into the forest, muttering about men under her breath then cast a detect life spell. Small pink lights flared around her, lighting the dark landscape. Renae hunted small game, bagging three hares before returning to the campsite.

Both men looked up when Renae announced her presence by saying, "Good, you started a fire. It seems that you can at least do one thing." Jauffre scowled and Martin looked offended, but the Dunmer didn't care. She skinned the hares and cut up the meat before skewering it and giving one to each man.

"I'm not cooking your meat – do it yourself." She said, sticking her stick in the fire. When it was ready, she ate quickly, washing the meat down with some water and half a loaf of bread, which she refused to share.

After dinner, Jauffre and Martin set up their bedrolls, while Renae didn't move from beside the fire.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" Martin asked.

"Nope. Mer don't need as much sleep as humans and the beast races, so I'll keep an eye out for danger." Renae replied, not looking up from the fire. Eventually, the two men's breathing evened and slowed, and the Dunmer settled herself for a long night. A few hours later, out of sheer boredom, Renae summoned her ancestor guardian.

Maela Shishara appeared, shortsword ready in an aggressive stance. Seeing no enemies, Maela relaxed her stance and turned to Renae.

"Raynasa Shali Maesa, you should know better than to disturb your ancestors idly!" Renae cringed, and jerked her head to where Jauffre and Martin were sleeping. Luckily, neither of them woke. Maela scowled and placed her hands on her hips, looking around and seeing the forest.

"Child, what are you doing here? In the land of the Dragon! Away from your clan and beautiful Vvardenfell. And with outlanders! Explain yourself. Now." The ancestor guardian spoke quietly, in a dangerous tone.

Renae refused to be cowed by her ancestor. "I'm here because I had to do a job, then decided to loot the Ayleid ruins. I was sent to prison for stealing from outlanders," Maela's lips twitched as she heard this, "and was threatened into doing this. Trust me, I am going back home as soon as I can." In truth, Renae still wasn't sure why she had stayed in Cyrodiil this long, though she suspected an Aedra or a Daedra had a hand in it.

"Why did you leave aruhn in the first place?"

"Because I wanted to see more of Vvardenfell. But you know I still kept to as many traditions as possible. The same here, in this gods-forsaken country. You know Mehrunes Dagon is trying to conquer Tamriel?"

"Yes," Maela sat down next to Renae and placed a cool, silvery hand on Renae's. "You have courage, child. I'll give you that much. I only worry for what the Aedra and Daedra have in mind." Renae turned her head sharply to stare at Maela.

"Sera, what do you mean?"

"The Aedra have plans, why you are a part of them I cannot fathom, and the Daedra have plans, and you are a part of them as well."

"Well, I'm flattered. Gods I don't respect want to use me, and the Daedra want to use me also," The sarcasm in her tone was so thick one could have drowned in it. "So, can you give me any details?"

"The Aedra want you to help the Imperial khan-to-be," They both glanced over at Martin, who was twitching in his sleep, having a nightmare. "For the Daedra, I cannot say. Remember the Ashlander verses, honor your clan and your aruhn. Now, since you never know what tomorrow brings, and never know if you need to summon me tomorrow, goodbye, child."

"Goodnight, serjo." Renae said as her ancestor guardian faded away.

~.~.~

The arrow flew out of the forest and embedded itself in the tree Renae had been leaning against in the previous second. The Dunmer jerked herself up, ruby eyes darting everywhere. Renae grabbed her bow and quiver and raced into the trees, ignoring Martin and Jauffre. She heard a twig snap, and altered her course, notching an arrow, listening for the twang of a bow. Nothing. Renae came upon where she guessed the assassin must've been, studying the marks on the ground and the branches bent out of the way. Renae saw some horse dung nearby and some hoof prints, and guessed that the assassin had a horse. Since neither were around, the Dunmer assumed the assassin either bailed or moved to get a better shot. Renae turned and sprinted back to camp.

The men looked up when Renae entered the clearing. "Nothing. The assassin probably high-tailed, and I saw hoof prints, so," she shrugged.

"But why bail? Why not just get a battalion and storm our camp?" Jauffre asked, his eyebrows pulling together.

"My apologies, Highness, but I think that I was the target. I'm not surprised the Dark Brotherhood wants me dead," Renae told Martin, her tone mocking like usual.

"Why would anyone here want you dead?" Jauffre asked suspiciously.

"Didn't you notice how quickly I pissed you off, Grandmaster? I'm good at that," Renae replied casually. "Plus, I'm good at looting ruins, so someone may feel threatened, though why not just ambush me in a ruin? It would be easier to say I died from a trap," she was speculating now. "I say we should move out."

Jauffre and Martin nodded, and went to saddle their horses. Renae doused the fire, and hid all signs of the clearing being inhabited as best she could. She quickly saddled Moonshadow, and they rode north.

Renae told Martin Dunmeri history, how some Aldmer broke off, and led by Veloth, they traveled to Morrowind. Veloth taught his people how to tell the difference between the Good Daedra and Bad Daedra, getting the aid of the Good Daedra. She told how Boethiah is the god-ancestor of the Dunmer, teaching the Chimer to renounce all ties to the Aldmer and to build a nation based on Daedric principals, how Azura taught the Chimer the mysteries needed to be different to the Aldmer, how Mephala taught the Chimer how to evade and secretly kill their enemies.

They dismounted and led their horses to a stream. Moving a fair distance away, the two men and one woman sat down for a rest.

"Hey, is that an Ayleid ruin?" Renae asked, pointing at the white stone in the distance.

"Yes. That's Moranda, I think." Jauffre replied stiffly.

"Alright, well I'll be in there." The Dunmer said, standing up.

"No! We have to get Martin to Cloud Ruler Temple."

"Twenty minutes tops."

"No."

Renae considered rebellion, but froze as a dremora decided to walk into the clearing. The two men stood up. Jauffre and Renae reached for their weapons, as Martin readied his magicka. The dremora sneered but held his hands up, away from his sheathed long sword, in a peace gesture.

"_What do you want_?" Renae snarled in Daedric, resting her hands on her swords for comfort.

"_Little mortal, do not get me wrong, I absolutely loathe this job and I can see to which Daedra your loyalties lie. But my Lord Dagon would like to offer you a place in the Mythic Dawn. He could use your skills to kill him_," the Dremora jerked his chin in Martin's direction, "_and take over Nirn. I believe this is a waste of time since you are loyal others and helping the bastard heir. What do you say?_"

"_I say never shall you have rule over me. Never shall I tremble or flinch from your power. Never shall I yield my aruhn. You were right, now you can tell your lord when you are reborn!_" Renae growled in disgust, dancing across the space between them and drawing her swords. Instead of attacking, she slipped into a half-crouch and they circled.

"_You know you're going to die._" He growled. The dremora had unsheathed his blade and now brought it across in a sideways sweep. Renae dodged it easily. The dremora and the Dunmer continued trading blows, Renae's quick and lithe, the dremora's powerful. Renae knew that though he was wary, he was still arrogant. _Most people think that they can kill me easily, then they die. Daedra are no exception_.

Renae and the dremora locked blades, and he pressed his down on the Dunmer. Renae slipped an inch, and the dremora grinned as she gritted her teeth.

"_Weakling mortal, I don't know how my master can find you such a threat_." He said.

"_That fetcher is scared I might just bust his bubble. N'wah._" Renae spat back. One of her longswords shattered when the dremora twisted his weight, metal splinters flying everywhere. Renae blinked in surprise, but quickly spun her blade to cut through the muscles in the dremora's leg as they both stumbled from the change in weight. When he stumbled again, cursing, Renae swung up her sword to swing it into the dremora's neck, gathering enough speed to almost completely behead him. The body fell to the ground.

"_I won't betray the Daedra I serve_." Renae whispered before turning back to Martin, Jauffre and the horses; all of which were quite nervous.

"What was that?" Jauffre demanded. Renae shot him a mildly annoyed look as she picked slivers of metal out of her skin.

"That was me fighting a dremora, Grandmaster." She replied cheekily. Martin rolled his eyes. _Are all Ashlanders this bad, or is it just Renae? _He wondered.

"I think what Jauffre meant was: what did the dremora want and what did you say to each other?" Martin said before Jauffre could reply.

"In between insulting me, and saying we are all doomed, he said Mehrunes Dagon wants me to join him. I told him hell no, and it got a bit out of hand. And I'm probably now on Dagon's shit list." Renae answered, smirking. She healed the small cuts, then took a drink from her canteen.

"And you're not worried at all?" Martin asked as they readied their horses.

"Why should I be?" The Dunmer replied.

They rode their horses north, and Renae continued telling Martin Dunmeri history, about the Dwemer, how the Chimer and the Dwemer were enemies until they allied to drive away the Nords. How Dagoth found out about the Heart of Lorkhan, and the Dwemer's plans to make a mechanical god, and how the Chimer found this insulting. Azura confirmed what Dagoth said, and it started a war between the Mer. At the Battle of Red Mountain, Renae told of how Nerevar's cunning trapped the Dwemer, and how all of the Dwemer disappeared, and another version where the Dwemer met their own end, rather than at the battle.

"And no one really know how Nerevar died. Some say he died fighting Dagoth Ur. Others say Vivec, Sotha Sil and Almalexia killed him themselves. And others say the Almsivi poisoned him before he fought Dagoth Ur, guaranteeing Dagoth's victory. At some point around here, Dagoth Ur became a demigod, I'm not really sure when. The Almsivi got their hands on Wraithguard, Keening and Sunder, while Dagoth Ur escaped somehow. With Lord Nerevar out of the way, the Almsivi went against Nerevar's dying wish and used Kagrenac's Tools to make themselves demigods."

"So they're not true gods, then?" Martin asked, wary about triggering the Dunmer's hate on the subject.

"No," Renae's expression showed clear disgust, "They aren't like the Aedra and the Daedra. Anyway, Azura cursed all the Chimer, changing their gold skin to the color of ash, and their eyes from topaz to ruby. And we became the Dunmer. She also said that one day the Nerevarine would come and strip their power from them and destroy the Heart.

"The Almsivi went about helping the people, mocking the Daedra and prosecuting the Nerevarine Cult. The Heart of Lorkhan is an evil thing, so Dagoth Ur grew stronger as he is evil. Later, Dagoth Ur ambushed the Almsivi when they went back to Red Mountain. So the Tribunal had the Tools, but Dagoth Ur had the Heart.

"When the Almsivi tried to retake some Dwemeri citadels Dagoth Ur and his seven Ash Vampires had taken, they lost Sunder and Keening. To stop the Blight, Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil retreated from active lives and devoted their time to creating and keeping up the Ghostfence, but there were tunnels underneath the ground and creatures such as cliff racers can still fly over it.

"They were too much of cowards to go and retrieve Sunder and Keening. Most of the Nerevarine Cult believes they are very weak now, and probably couldn't hold their own against a horde of Ascended Sleepers, but that might be a bit of an exaggeration. While on the other hand, Dagoth Ur is extremely powerful.

"Almalexia despaired, and only pretends to care for the people. Sotha Sil withdrew to his city, and ignores everyone. Vivec is the only one maintaining the Ghostfence, but he doesn't pay much attention to the people, and his Ordinators are out of control and quite fanatic."

"Who is the Nerevarine?"

Renae smiled. "The Nerevarine, or Nerevar Incarnate is the one who will be chosen by Azura to avenge the insult of the Tribunal and slay Dagoth Ur. Some also say he will drive all the outlanders out of Morrowind. No one knows when this prophecy will come true, but things are falling apart in Morrowind, so I don't think it's far off. I could be wrong, of course."

"Does the prophesy state the Nerevarine's gender and race?" Martin asked.

"It doesn't state the gender," Renae conceded, looking distasteful, "but the prophecies all point to an outlander." It was clear she didn't like the idea of Morrowind's hero incarnate being an outlander.

They rode their horses up the steep incline, heading towards Bruma. Renae shivered, her teeth chattering, and cast a small fire spell to stop her hands from freezing, the magicka tingling in her forearms and palms. The Dunmer reached up to put one of her now warm hands on her nose, which was numb.

"Dunmer are not made for freezing places." She muttered.

They rode on from Bruma, turning up the steep incline, and the Dunmer grew more reserved, obviously not enjoying the cold. Martin looked up the steep path and saw their destination. The walls were high, as confining as they were protecting, and he could just make out people patrolling behind the battlements. Cloud Ruler Temple.


	7. The Path of Dawn

**Chapter 7 – The Path of Dawn**

Renae rode Moonshadow down from Cloud Ruler Temple, looking forward to the warmer weather. Despite Martin's protests that starting for the Imperial City at night is not a good idea, she wasn't swayed. Renae had been antsy for the last few days and was glad for the opportunity to get out and do something. Riding bareback, the Dunmer went cross-country rather than stick to the road. Passing an Ayleid ruin, it took a lot of her self-control not to go take a look around. Renae spurred Moonshadow to go faster, despite the danger of cantering down a slope in the middle of the night, to get away from the temptation.

A fair while later, the Dunmer saw a statue from the top of a hill. Moonshadow cautiously picked her way down, and Renae recognised the shrine's patron. The worshipers watched warily as she dismounted and approached. Renae could almost feel the darker side of her personality settling over her, and embraced it. One of the worshipers, a female Dunmer, approached Renae. Something Daedra worshipers, particularly Dunmer, acquire is the ability to 'sense' which Daedra someone worships. Not everyone learns it, but it is generally gained over time.

"You wish to summon the Webspinner?" The Dunmer asked Renae, who nodded. "Leave an offering of nightshade for Mephala."

Renae dug through her pack, looking for few harvested ingredients she had. _I think I have some_, she thought, _aha_. Renae walked up to the statue and placed her offering in front of it and knelt. The tattoo on the Dunmer's left wrist tingled unpleasantly, and an androgynous voice whispered through the clearing.

"Ah, my assassin approaches the shrine of the Webspinner. You already know how much life is like a tapestry. Pluck but a single thread, and the weave unravels. In Bleaker's Way, a hamlet to the west, two families, Nord and Dunmer, live in perfect harmony. But beneath the surface lurks the secret seed of strife. Kill the leaders of the two families. Plant evidence to implicate the other family as the killer. And don't get caught. Be cunning. Don't spoil my scheme. And don't die . . . that would spoil everything."

Mephala snickered, and Renae stood up. The lack of good directions didn't faze her; Renae was used to finding obscure places and things for people. Hopping on Moonshadow's back, the Dunmer set off to find Bleaker's Way.

~.~.~

Kirsten looked up when the door opened, and an unfamiliar Dunmer walked in.

"Hello, welcome to Bleaker's Way Goodwill Inn."

The Dunmer nodded tiredly. "Do you have any rooms for rent?"

"Yes, there's one on the third story available for five gold coins." Kirsten said. The woman handed over the septims in exchange for a key, and then proceeded to the stairs. Once inside her room, Renae locked the door again and slid the windows shut before collapsing on the bed.

~.~.~

Renae emerged from her room at about lunch time, and ordered shepherds pie from Kristen. There were some Nords and two Dunmer in the inn, and they invited Renae to sit and dine with them. Introductions were made and the newcomer sat between Satha Dalvilu and Beirir. Satha was surprisingly chatty for a Dunmer, while the older Dunmer, Nivan Dalvilu, was more reserved, wary of Renae's accent and suspecting her to have ulterior motives. The Nords were also talkative, and naturally were very loud.

"After lunch, could you show me around Bleaker's Way?" Renae asked Satha.

"Yes, of course." She smiled. Nivan looked like he wanted to say something, but held his tongue.

Satha showed Renae around the small town, pointing who owned which house and chatting about recent happenings. "And that is Nivan's house, next to the inn. You know he is the leader of my family." Satha pointed out the last house on the tour. _Aha_, Renae thought as scraps of a plan began to weave themselves together in her mind.

~.~.~

"So you're a Dark Elf native to Morrowind?" Ulrika Ulfgar asked on the third night, at dinner.

"Yes." Renae replied, suddenly finding her potato very interesting.

"What House?" Kirsten inquired.

"Ashlander." Renae replied brusquely. The Nords looked surprised, while the Dunmer looked unfazed, since they already knew.

"What are you doing this far west?" Hrol asked.

"Got bored living as a nomad, and it's just too dangerous to live out there anymore, with the Blight and all." Renae lied easily. She noticed that while the Nords were satisfied with her response, some of the Dunmer, Nivan in particular, weren't buying it, though they didn't inquire further. _Renae's probably running from some shame in the Ashlands, not that it matters here. She's smart to move away from that place,_ Arvin theorized.

Dinner continued without any nosing around, and after a half-hour or so of idle chatter, they retired to their homes. Renae slipped back to her room, locking the door after her, as was her habit.

~.~.~

Renae slunk downstairs, quietly approaching the sleeping Kirsten. She searched around a bit for the Nord's jewellery box, and eventually found it hidden in a niche in the wall. Picking the lock easily, the Dunmer opened it and took the Ulfgar family ring. All the Ulfgar's had a ring like this, she knew. The Dunmer closed the box and crept back to her room.

She rolled her sheet up and her blanket from her pack, arranging them under the quilt to make it look like someone was sleeping in the bed. Then, she checked her weapons were all in order. Rather than take her remaining sword, the Dunmer was taking two poisoned glass daggers, on top of her normal daggers. While scouting around the previous night, Renae learned the easiest entries and exits to her soon-to-be-victims houses and found things that could be used as evidence, though she hadn't taken them.

The Dunmer slipped on her three rings, the chameleon enchantments shrouding her, though not completely. Silently opening the window, Renae slid out, gripping the windowsill and shutting the window as best she could, before dropping to the ground in a crouch. Renae stalked around the outskirts of the town to Hrol Ulfgar's house. She entered via a window on the first story then cast detect life. A large patch of pink flared upstairs, and Renae waited to make sure it wasn't moving around. The Dunmer padded up the stairs, still crouching and peeked through the doorway to Hrol's room. The Nord was passed out on his bed from the fatigue damaging potion Renae had slipped into the stores of drinks earlier.

Drawing the glass dagger, she slunk over to the bed and put a hand over the Nord's mouth as she slid her knife into his diaphragm. He died quickly and quietly.

Renae continued around to Niven's house, the detect life wearing off, sneaking through the back window then up the stairs, readying a shock spell to use on Nivan. Freezing at the doorway, Renae realized too late that her target was still awake. _Oh, shit. Ankle deep, _she stared at the other Dunmer, who stared back. Her hands slid to the daggers on her belt, something which Nivan didn't miss.

"So, you came to kill me, eh? It's what you came to do, isn't it?"

Renae's lips curled up, though there was nothing humorous. _Knee deep_.

"Smart. A little too smart, if you ask me." Renae tumbled to avoid the frost spell hurled at her and came up, hurling her own spell, which Nivan reflected easily. Renae threw one of her daggers, hoping to distract her opponent, and sprang closer, grabbing another dagger.

Nivan grabbed her wrist when she slashed, pushed it away and twisted, trying to get Renae to drop the weapon. He punched the other Dunmer in the jaw and she gave a strangled growl in return, kicking his knee cap. Nivan's leg buckled, and he muttered something under his breath, while Renae unsheathed yet another dagger, slashing at his face and twisting her trapped arm, trying to get free.

There was a whisper of movement behind Renae, large armored hands gripped her shoulders and flung the Dunmer across the room. Renae flew into a bookshelf, and slid to the ground, dazed, her vision fuzzy. A large shape loomed over her, and the dremora picked her up easily by the throat single handily. Renae screeched as she was throttled, clawing, kicking and struggling. Dark wisps invaded her vision, and Renae pulled out another dagger, trying to slash anywhere she could. The dremora laughed at the pitiful attempt and held her forearm away easily. She chocked back a scream, instead using the last of the air in her lungs to whisper a spell.

A silvery long sword slashed through the dremora's throat. He gasped, cursing in Daedric as he collapsed and vanished. Renae fell to the ground, groaning, as Maela rounded on Nivan. She jumped out of the way of the fire spell, growling in the Ashlander tongue. Nivan tried to run for the weapons lying on the bedside table, and Maela used his distraction to first hamstring him, and then slit his throat when Niven fell to the ground. The ancestor guardian turned back to her scion, quickly ghosting over to Renae and kneeling beside her.

Renae came around when Maela healed her wounds as best she could.

"Serjo, thank you." Renae croaked, massaging her throat, sitting up. She tried to ignore the dizziness, but that made her fall back down.

"Don't mention it. Would I be a good guardian if I let you die?" Maela replied. Renae sat up carefully, then after a minute stood up, swaying as the blood rushed from her head. She reached out to lean against the wall. Taking an inventory of her injuries, she noted that while Maela had taken care of most of her injuries, she still had to be careful. Pulling the Ulfgar family ring from her pocket with her good hand, Renae wiped some blood on it from Niven's corpse and dropped it on the ground, before reclaiming her daggers and the Dalvilu ceremonial dagger. Maela nodded once at Renae when she looked up and vanished as someone started banging on the door, and Renae rushed as quietly as she could down the stairs and out the window. The Dunmer retreated into the forest, once again making her way to Hrol's house, being more careful now that she knew someone was awake.

Once inside, she made her way upstairs again and plunged the ceremonial dagger into the already existing wound. She ghosted away as silently as she could; hindered by the pain that was making a reappearance.

_I'm glad I didn't have to fight Hrol_, she thought as she came in the Goodwill Inn by the front door, wincing when it creaked. Kirsten didn't wake up, luckily for Renae. _Thank you Webspinner_. The Dunmer made her way back to her room, locking the door again once inside.

The first thing Renae did was have a bath, depositing her old clothes in her pack and pulling on her nightclothes. Then, she closed the window properly and finally lay down on the bed.

~.~.~

Renae was woken in the morning by shouts and the sound of weapons clashing. Sitting up slowly, aware of how stiff she was, she walked slowly to the window and looked out. The Ulfgars and Dalvilus were fighting, shouting insults every chance they got. Renae smirked before turning to get changed. She pulled her comfortable leather cuirass over her head, followed by her leather greaves, and then pulled her gauntlets over her hands.

The Dunmer packed quickly, sprang down the stairs and left a tip on the front bench, and then she slipped quietly out the door. The families were too busy slaughtering each other to notice the lone Dunmer jump on her horse's back and canter away. When out of sight from Bleaker's Way, Renae allowed herself a sadistic smirk, and laughed. _They will never know the truth_, she thought, sniggering.

Moonshadow slowed down in the denser part of the forest, and then sped up again when the trees thinned. Renae brought Moonshadow to a halt when they reached Mephala's shrine, dismounted, walked silently to the statue and knelt.

"Well done, little webspinner. It was a close one, but you succeeded. Is there a prettier sight then friends at war? Take pleasure in the strife you have caused. Savor the divine essence of a well-spun plot. And here's a little needle to stitch your own tangled tapestries." Mephala's voice once again whispered through the clearing.

Renae smirked and gripped the obsidian sword that had materialized in front of her, and stood. When she turned around, the Webspinner spoke again.

"Wait, little mortal. You are helping cut through Mehrunes Dagon's web, are you not? He must not be able to succeed in his plot to take over Tamriel. You cannot go back to Morrowind and forget this ever happened. If you fail, you will wish Mehrunes Dagon had taken you prisoner, one of my assassins or no. Do you hear me?"

Renae nodded, slightly nervous.

"Good. Now go."

The Dunmer turned around again, and partially unsheathed her new sword to examine it. Down the onyx blade, the words _Ebony Blade _were written in Cyrodillic. Buckling the katana around her waist, and removing her old sword, Renae then climbed on Moonshadow's back. The Dunmer directed Moonshadow South West, down to the Imperial City

~.~.~

Renae dismounted and led Moonshadow to the paddock. One of the hostlers, who were feeding the other horses, came over to Renae when he had finished.

"Hello, Renae. Good to see you again." He greeted.

Renae nodded but said nothing. The Imperial took Moonshadow's reins and led her away.

_I hope Snak gra-Bura doesn't try to snack on Moonshadow_, she thought as she made her way through the city gate. _Now, where am I supposed to meet Baurus again?_

~.~.~

When an Orc pushed open the door to Luther Broad's Boarding House, Renae seized the opportunity and slipped in, invisible, before the door swung shut. Moving into the shadowy corner, she noted all the patrons, and luckily there weren't many tonight. One particular partially drunk Redguard caught her notice. Silently, the Dunmer slunk up behind him and leaned over so she could whisper into his ear.

"Baurus," Renae murmured. He started and turned slightly, his hand inching to his katana. "Hey, easy, it's Renae. I'm invisible, so act normal."

The Redguard complied, relaxing. He took a swig from his mug then muttered so low the Dunmer had to lean closer still to hear.

"That guy in the corner has been stalking me. I'm gonna get up and go into the basement, and that guy will follow me, then you follow him."

"Gotcha." Renae breathed, and retreated around the corner, near the basement door.

The Redguard finished his ale then stood up, swaying slightly then approached the basement, stumbling every once in a while. After the door closed, the Breton Baurus had pointed out stood also, put a tip on the table and followed, passing Renae. She caught the door before it swung shut and eased inside, the invisibility effects fading as the spell wore off.

Silently drawing one of her daggers, Renae stalked down the steps, her eyes never leaving the agent, who was looking around for Baurus, and had summoned his bound armor. The Redguard appeared, katana in hand, and the two started a flurry of moves, each trying to kill the other. It seemed that Baurus had only been faking drunk, as his movements were uninhibited. Grabbing his shoulder from behind with her right hand, Renae drove the Dwemer dagger into the back of his neck. The Dunmer twisted her dagger before pulling it out as the agent collapsed.

"Not bad." Baurus grunted, his eyes sweeping around the room for any more enemies.

"It was too easy." Renae shook her head and crouched down to wipe her dagger on the corpse's clothes and search for anything of interest.

"Hmm, a book," she said, pulling out a red book and standing up. "_The Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes,_ volume one."

Renae passed the book to Baurus, who flicked through the pages. He scowled, skim reading through it.

"Crazy fanatics," He muttered, passing it back. "Can you make any sense of it?"

"I'm not sure about my sanity, but I'm sure not a fanatic, and sure as hell not one of Dagon's flunkies. Ugh." Renae replied, her eyes blazing and her expression twisted in disgust.

"Well, if it says volume one, then you'll probably have to find the next books." Baurus said.

"Yippee." Renae drawled sarcastically.

"Well, since you're here, can you tell me what's going on with. . ." He trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud, in case of undetected eavesdroppers.

"I got the necklace to the Priory, closed the Kvatch Gate, and got Martin to the CRT. Oh, and Jauffre lost the am–necklace."

"We _lost_ the amulet?!" Baurus looked like he was choking on something nasty.

"But we got Martin, he's safe as safe can be right now. Believe me, I'm very pissed off too, _I_ can look after it, then _he_ loses it within a week of me giving it to him." Renae growled. _Bloody s'wit_, she added silently.

Baurus paced, muttering under his breath, and throwing the corpse a few nasty looks. After a few minutes, Renae reclaimed his attention.

"Now, about this book. Any ideas about where I might find the next ones, aside from libraries in Morrowind?"

Baurus continued to pace, thinking. "Try the Arcane University. Tell the guards I sent you to speak with Tar-Meena. Or you could try First Edition." Renae thought about both options, estimating what would happen in each scenario. The book looked familiar somehow. . .

"I swear I've seen this before somewhere," The Dunmer muttered, starting her own pacing, "think."

A memory flickered to the surface. They were at Jobasha's Rare Books, and she saw a few of the books there. _Ethyra was there. Come on, think. I've seen them somewhere else. _Another memory floated to the surface. Renae and some of her friends had ambushed some Dagon worshipers, and she had seen a few of those books, or ones similar.

"Aha!" Renae crowed.

"What?" Baurus asked.

"I know where I've seen this," she waved the book around, "before. And I think I've got a few of them somewhere. Hmm. . ." _Could I go get them from Vvardenfell? Or better yet, get someone to bring them here. Hey, that could work. . ._

"How would you have 'a few' of them?" Baurus asked warily.

Renae smirked, a predatory glint in her eye. "Let's just say Dagon worshipers are just as popular in Morrowind as they are here."

~.~.~

"Child, what is the meaning of this?! This is the second time you have disturbed me idly!" Maela cried. Renae cringed.

"Sera, I swear by Azura that next time there will be someone whose ass you can kick."

"You know it isn't a good idea to swear by Azura. If you break your word–"

"Which I won't."

Maela sighed. "Why did you summon me, Raynasa?"

Renae took a deep breath and asked, "Serjo, could you do me a favor?"

"It depends. What do you have in mind, child?" Maela growled.

"Could you take this letter to my comrades in Vivec, preferably my cousin. It will help us in kicking Mehrunes Dagon's ass, and I personally think that is an offer hard to pass up."

"Of course _you_ would think it would be irresistible," Maela informed her scion, frowning. "I will do it. But you should not disturb me idly again." The ancestor guardian grabbed the letter off the table and vanished.

Renae sighed in relief, looking around the suite she had rented for the night.

~.~.~

"Did you hear someone killed a corprus st– hey!" Aryn Redoran glared at the ancestor guardian that had materialized not three feet away from him. The Morag Tong assassins around the room stared curiously at the commotion. A few of them recognized this particular guardian. . .

"_Maela_? Sera, what is going on?" Ethyra, who was sitting next to Aryn, stood up and had an arm half extended to the spirit. _Don't tell me. . ._ She thought. Maela turned to the worried Dunmer, and her expression told Ethyra that her cousin wasn't in much danger, aside from a furious ancestor guardian.

"Renae requested I give this to you." Maela said formally, handing over a hastily scribbled note. The Dunmer opened the letter and her eyes flew back and forth down the page.

"Thank you, serjo. I know you dislike these jobs."

"Indeed." Maela sniffed, and then faded away.

"I need to speak to the Grandmaster." Ethyra muttered to the few Dunmer at the table before quickly fleeing the room, her black hair swinging. It was silent as everyone looked around.

"What the hell?!" Rogdul gro-Bularz called.

"It will have something to do with Renae, no doubt." Aryn replied, scowling at the rowdy Orc.

"Where is she, anyway? Last writ I remember her taking was that merchant who fled to the heart of the Empire." Minnibi said, his voice twisting in disgust at the Empire.

"Well, it couldn't have taken Renae this long to complete a contract, and she doesn't dally, so something must have come up." Ulmesi murmured.

~.~.~

Aryn walked down the hall in the direction of the exit. He was going to go for walk, maybe browse through some shops.

"Redoran, come here." The Grandmaster's voice rang down the corridor. The Dunmer turned and saw Eno Hlaalu. The Grandmaster gestured for the younger Dunmer to follow him, then turned and ghosted away. _What?_ Aryn wondered as he followed Eno to his office. Aryn fought the uneasiness curling in his stomach as he shut the door and faced the Grandmaster.

"You saw Renae's ancestor guardian give a letter to Ethyra, did you not?" Eno began.

Aryn blinked, and then nodded.

"The letter was a request for Ethyra to help Renae. And I'm sending you as well as Ethyra."

Aryn raised his eyebrows in surprise. _Well, this is unexpected_, he thought. He curbed he urge to ask why, since he believed one shouldn't question their leader.

"You and Ethyra will leave tonight. Pack everything required for a long mission. I don't know how long you will be assisting Renae. Dismissed."

Aryn nodded and left the office, running a hand through his scruffy chestnut hair.

~.~.~

The next morning, Renae entered First Edition, immediately walking over to Phintias, the proprietor.

"Good day, can I help you with anything?" the Redguard asked politely.

"Yes, I'm looking for a rare book series. _The Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes_. Have you seen any around?" The Dunmer asked.

"Well, the first two books are rare, but you may come across them occasionally. I have book three here, but it has already been paid for by another customer. And I've never even seen book four."

"I'm curious as to who the buyer is." Renae said. _So I can take care of him_, she silently added. Phintias shot her a suspicious look, to which Renae merely gazed back innocently.

"The buyer is coming all the way from Valenwood to pick it up. He seemed very excited I had a copy." Phintias spoke slowly, trying to be as vague as possible. Renae nodded, then turned and left the shop. Settling in a shadowy archway where she could watch everyone who entered and left First Edition, Renae prepared for a long wait.

~.~.~

A Bosmer walked out of First Edition, with _The Commentaries on the Mystrium Xarxes_, volume three. He looked very excited, and Renae easily sprang to her feet. She waited until he went around the corner, then stepped out of the shadows. _Finally, its nearly dusk_, she thought as she turned the corner. Keeping a good twenty feet behind the 'mer, Renae casually stalked him, often taking a different route to avoid detection and suspicion. It was after sunset Renae saw something of interest. The Dunmer waited in a shadowy niche across the road, watching as her target entered The Tiber Septim Hotel. She turned away, taking the long way around to get behind the hotel.

A guard passed her, noting with some suspicion her position. The Dunmer waited until there were no guards around, and then climbed on top of a first story window. She knew how difficult climbing walls like this was, and it took a few tries to successfully grab the window sill for the second story, even falling off the first window twice to land on the sidewalk. Finally, Renae managed to grab the window sill, and then tried to open the window. Luckily, it was unlocked, and she slipped through, closing the window after her. Renae sank into a crouch, and then moved through the door into the hall. A few pink lights flared around her as she cast a detect life spell. Most of the rooms were empty, since it was still fairly early in the night. Three rooms were occupied.

In one room, there was a blob so large Renae assumed it was actually two people lying on the bed. _Yuck, I don't want to know_, she thought. In the second, a single pink blob was horizontal. In the third, there was a blob in an odd position, with a few right angles.

Skipping past the first of the occupied rooms, Renae pulled her skeleton key out, and picked the lock. Easing the door open, she saw only an Argonian lying on the bed. The Dunmer closed the door, and then continued on to the third occupied room. Picking the lock, Renae opened the door, only wide enough to peek an eye in. The Bosmer was sitting at a desk, pouring over the book, muttering in an excited voice. He was so caught up that he didn't hear the muted click of the door swinging shut.

A hand wound through his hair, yanking his head back, and cold steel pressed against his throat. He jumped in surprise and terror.

"If you make any noise, I promise I will kill you." Renae murmured seductively in his ear. He bit back a squeak, and a thought crossed his mind: _what if this person has been sent from the cult? _

"Now, speak only when I ask you a question. That book, is it for sale?" She asked in a low voice.

_What an odd question. Maybe it's a test_. "No. You don't know how long I've looked for it."

"These are not the sort of people you want to mess with. The Mythic Dawn are dangerous." The Dunmer growled.

_What? Wait, didn't the note say that I had to meet him. . . ? _He wondered as he bridled. "I've been to many festivals for many Daedric Princes."

The hand in his hair tightened, and the knife dug into his skin, just drawing blood.

"Careful," Renae warned against his outburst. The Bosmer shivered. "The Prince of Destruction and Change is one of the nastiest Daedra out there, for the sake of Nirn, at least. Now, why are you interested in the Mythic Dawn?" He wanted to ask what she was talking about with Mehrunes Dagon, but the cold metal at his throat curbed the urge.

"Mankar Camoran's writings are fascinating, revolutionary."

"They murdered the Emperor and his heirs, n'wah!" She spat.

The Bosmer's eyes widened in shock, and he made a strange breathless squeak.

"They were the ones?! I swear, I didn't know. Here, take the book, and they gave me this note," he gestured to a piece of paper on the table. "Take them!"

The Dunmer chuckled darkly, and then removed the hands from his throat and hair. The 'mer sighed in relief, before the hands came back, and swiftly twisted his neck until it snapped. Renae removed her hands, and the corpse slumped forward.

She grabbed the _Commentaries_, and the note. The Dunmer slunk out of the room, closing the door softly behind her and creeping down the hallway.

~.~.~

Baurus froze. He heard the window swing shut and the Redguard quietly reached for his katana. Gripping the hilt, Baurus heard no footsteps, but when his instincts practically 'sensed' another presence, the blade swung out of its sheath, and around.

"Woah! Easy, Baurus, it's just me." Renae hissed, freezing with her hands up. Baurus relaxed his stance, but kept his katana in his hand.

"Was that necessary?" He asked, frowning.

"Do you really want to be associated with me publicly?" The Dunmer asked in return.

"Well, no, but you could have warned me earlier." Baurus grumbled.

"It slipped my mind." Renae replied virtuously.

Baurus snorted. "You just like trying freak me out."

She smiled innocently, and Baurus didn't buy it.

The Dunmer pulled her bag off her back and started rummaging through it.

"Moving on, I st–_obtained_ a note that involves the Mythic Dawn." She said, pulling out the mentioned item, and glancing down the page. Baurus came up behind her and read over her shoulder. Renae tried to subdue the unpleasant feeling of having someone close behind her, close enough to stick a dagger in her back. Her legs tensed, ready to flee if needed.

"Well, if you don't have any problems, let's go." Baurus said when he finished, oblivious to the Dunmer's discomfort.

"No problem," Renae replied, stuffing the note in her pocket and heading for the window. "I'll meet you outside the sewers."

Baurus nodded, and the Dunmer opened the window, and then jumped out. Baurus walked to the window, and looked out, but he couldn't see the sneaky woman. Shutting the window, he turned to the door, sheathing his katana. He shook his head. That Dunmer, despite helping the Blades and the future Emperor, made him edgy for some reason. _Oh well, she is helping us. Hmm, maybe I should see if I can dig around a bit to find more about Renae_, he thought as he descended the stairs.

~.~.~

"Renae?" Baurus hissed, feeling like an idiot. There was a quiet laugh, and a dark figure jumped down, landing in a crouch then standing up. The Dunmer turned to Baurus, and her lips curved up.

"Smirk all you want, just help me get to that meeting place." The Redguard grumbled. She chuckled again, and pulled out a thin piece of metal that the Blade recognised. It was the same special lockpick she had used in the sewers, unsuccessfully. Inserting the metal into the sewer lock, Renae carefully raised the tumblers. One tumbler gave her particular trouble, it constantly fell, and Renae cursed a few times.

"How come it didn't break?" Baurus asked.

"I don't give away trade secrets." She muttered, putting the object in question safely away. The Dunmer carefully opened the grate, starting at every minute squeak the rusty hinges gave.

"Blades first?" She asked, motioning Baurus to go. The Redguard rolled his eyes, but complied, starting down the ladder, which was slippery with gunk, mold and other things one really isn't fond of. Renae followed, closing the grate after her, but not locking it.

There was a muted thud as Renae slipped on the third to last rung and dropped to the ground. Baurus grabbed her forearm, steadying her. Renae casually shook him off, and started forward. He followed, making no attempt to stay undetected. The Dunmer frowned, flinching at the echoing footsteps.

"Baurus, let's get this straight. I prefer sneaking. And I doubt you really care. So, I'll ask you to do it my way this time." Renae whispered.

The Redguard snickered. "Are you afraid of the goblins and mud crabs?"

"No," Renae hissed, feeling her temper rising, "but it is easier to pick off a target that isn't aware you are there. So at least _try_ to be quieter. I know that is hard for the strong-arming types. Brains work just as well as muscles."

Baurus ignored the implied insult, and instead replied, "True. But I am a Blade, so I know not to just run out like a maniac."

Renae bit back a sigh. This was going nowhere.

"How about you can sneak and I'll draw them out for you to pick off." Baurus suggested.

"Hey, that could actually work." Renae said thoughtfully, biting back her pride, but still sounding insultingly surprised.

Baurus bridled this time. "Hey, what the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

The Dunmer glared, defensive, unconsciously leaning into an aggressive stance. "It means that I'm a bloody Daedra-worshiping native-born Ashlander in a strange country who would rather walk into Red Mountain than be here among a bunch of outlanders who seem to have nothing better to do than order me around to save their own asses!" She bit her tongue to stop the rest of her tirade from escaping, not wanting to loose face.

Baurus glared back. "Oh? Well you–"

A pack of goblins, who had heard the shouting, turned the corner and saw the two arguing people. Shrieking their war cries, they charged, forcing the Dunmer and Redguard to stop bickering and fight. They both drew their katanas, and Baurus charged, while Renae sprang to the right, taking the goblins from another angle. One goblin thrust his dagger at Renae's side; she grabbed his wrist, twisted it away and plunged Ebony Blade through his chest. The Dunmer kicked his corpse off her sword, right into another goblin, knocking him off balance. Renae pounced, knocking him to the ground and slitting his throat.

The chaos continued, with more goblins coming to investigate. The two fought hard, parrying, dodging, thrusting, spinning. Goblins weren't incredibly hard to kill, but in numbers it was getting more difficult.

"Ugh!" Renae finally cried. Grabbing Baurus' arm when she dashed past, she ran down the corridor, partially dragging the Blade behind her.

"Hey!" Baurus growled, but the Dunmer didn't loosen her hold. They were faster than the goblins, since both of them were quite fit, and had longer legs. The goblins chased after their opponents, growling in their harsh tongue, and tripping over often in their haste. When the small, winding passageway opened up, Renae sprang to the left, letting go of Baurus. The Redguard realised what the plan was and followed the Dunmer.

Renae tripped over a crack in the wall, which sent her sprawling. Baurus lent down and roughly hauled her up, dragging the Dunmer this time. They reached the shadowy corner, and Renae pulled her rings from her pouch and slipped them on, keeping contact with the Redguard so the chameleon would cover both of them, though it weaker. The pair heard the goblins before they charged into sight. Baurus' breathing quietened, and Renae hoped they couldn't hear her thumping heart.

The goblins looked around, looking for their prey. One called out, and they all raced down one of the corridors. The Redguard let out his breath, and the Dunmer relaxed, though neither of them moved for about two more minutes, just to be safe.

Renae pursed her lips and straightened from her crouch. Baurus followed suit, and they looked at each other.

"Shall we?" Renae asked, and walked off. The Redguard followed without complaint.

~.~.~

"Well, ahead is where we are supposed to meet The Sponsor. I've always wondered who used that room," He whispered disgustedly. "I'll go, there's a catwalk above you can use to spy on our meeting."

"No, I'll go." Baurus opened his mouth to argue, but Renae held up a hand. "Wait. Just hear me out. Who will look more suspicious going through that door? A Redguard or a Dunmer?"

Baurus scowled at her.

"My point exactly. You use my rings to stay undetected, and when all hell breaks loose, you will have the best advantage. Here, take my bow and quiver. But I want everything back." Renae silently drew out her rings with a muttered, "Don't loose them", unbuckled her bow and ammo, and then handed them over. The Redguard adjusted the strap, then buckled up the quiver and held the bow ready in his hands.

"Good." Renae murmured, glad things were going the way she wanted.

She slunk to the door, and wished she had a cowl to hide her face. _Too late now_, Renae thought. Opening the rusted door only wide enough to slip through, she stalked to the seat and sat down, relaxing. Crossing her arms, the Dunmer felt the familiar calmness spread through her. She could do this. Renae's hands slid up her sleeves to grip the daggers hiding there.

A tall hooded figure ghosted through another doorway and waltzed to the table.

"You, there. You wish to join the Mythic Dawn, join Mehrunes Dagon in his quest to conquer Tamriel?" He asked in a typical Altmer accent, condescending and arrogant.

Renae forced her face to be impassive as she replied, "Yes." _How can that feel so wrong? I know I'm not really going to, but it still feels really bad_.

The Altmer cocked his head on the side. "Well, by finding the first books you have started on the path of enlightenment. Here is the _Commentaries of the Mysterium Xarxes_ volume four. Study it well, and hopefully you will take more steps on the road ahead." He pulled a book from his robes and set it on the table, then turned to leave. Renae drew one of her daggers and hurled it at him, hitting the Altmer in the back. His eyes widened and he collapsed to the ground.

Baurus broke cover; loosing the arrow he was going to hit The Sponsor with at one of the guards on the catwalk. The arrow found it's mark and the agent fell off the catwalk. There were sounds of metal clashing down below as another guard rushed at the direction the arrow had come from, and Baurus dropped the bow to straighten and draw his katana. They rushed at each other, Baurus having the advantage of years of experience. The agent brought his mace down in a diagonal slash, but Baurus held his katana across his body. The Redguard grabbed the agent's wrist as he attacked, twisted it away and stabbed him through the throat.

He looked down, and saw Renae cleaning her katana, surrounded by a few corpses. She looted the bodies, then walked to the table and grabbed the sought-after book.

"OK, let's go." Renae called. The Redguard picked up the bow and they both exited the room. Renae leaned against the wall while Baurus came down the stairs.

"I'll have my rings, bow and quiver back." She said, holding a hand out expectantly. He handed the items back.

"Well, now you have the fourth book, I'll head back to Cloud Ruler Temple and finally meet Martin. Good luck with those," he gestured to the Commentaries, "I'm sure you'll need it." The Redguard said. Renae nodded, and they headed back through the sewers.

~.~.~

Renae was back at her rented room, bored out of her mind. The Dunmer was sitting at the small table, elbows on the table top and her head resting on her hands. Renae's mind began to wonder, first pondering why she apparently was the one to stop Dagon's invasion; then how far Baurus was to the fortress; then if the Daedra were playing a cruel joke on her; then colourfully insulted Jauffre; then remembered the look in Uriel Septim's bright sapphire eyes when he told her, "In your face I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's blazing glory may banish the coming evil." Then remembered Martin had a similar look on his face when he fought Jauffre on the issue of her loyalty. This brought on the memory of the argument.

"_Well, now that you're here, can I go now?" Renae asked, working to keep her emotions out of her face, posture and voice. The Blades around the main hall looked on with interest._

"_No." Jauffre growled. The pressure of her emotions, which had been steadily building up, exploded. Her vision took on a strange red tinge._

"_Why the hell not?! I brought you the fracking amulet, I closed the freaking gate, and I brought you the heir! I helped you bring him here! I'm not one of your Blades to order around!" _

"_The Emperor obviously wanted you to help us – he let you escape, and told the Blades to stand down when they were about to kill you." Jauffre had more control over his emotions, but only just._

"_Do you seriously think the Blades would've been able to kill me?" Renae growled condescendingly, barely controlling her emotions._

"_Jauffre, Renae, please. Let's talk about this like adults," Martin interjected. Both swung around to face him, but made no comment. "Alright, now, Renae, what are your reasons for wanting to leave?"_

_The Dunmer snorted. "Isn't it obvious?"_

"_Just answer the question." Martin returned firmly._

_She scowled, but replied, "Because I don't want to be caught up in this. You've seen how I get; I would cause many arguments--"_

"_Hear, hear." One of the Blades muttered._

"-_-It's too restricting here. I'm an Ashlander – we don't respect authority, and you've also seen how I have problems taking orders. I've repaid my debt to your Emperor and now have no business here. And it is absolutely freezing here." A few of the Blades chuckled at this, but the Dunmer silenced them with her impressive glare. _

_Martin nodded. "Jauffre, what are your reasons for not wanting Renae to leave?"_

"_First, there is an issue of trust. How would we know if she just went and joined Mehrunes Dag--"_

"_That is probably one of the greatest insults you could fling at me! Why in the Realm of Azura would I want to?!" Renae hissed, furious and offended. There seemed to be a red filter she was seeing through. Martin sent her a warning glance._

"_--And what if she gives the information of this base, you and-"_

"_Who would I give it to? Dagoth Ur?" She sneered. _

"_Renae, Stop interrupting Jauffre." Martin scolded._

"_Then, there is also the fact that she does get things done. We are battling the Daedra, so having a Dunmer on our side would be helpful. The late Emperor said she would stop this threat, so why would we let someone chosen by the Gods to walk away from her responsibility?"_

_Martin was quiet, thinking things through. Renae put a lid on her anger, though her fists were still clenched, and her jaw ached from holding back the comments and insults she longed to fling. _Chosen by the Gods, what a joke. This place is going to the nix hounds_, she thought._

"_Renae, I do see your point, since you aren't native to Cyrodiil and here we are burdening you with our problems, but Jauffre is right," Martin began, and held up a hand to stop Renae, completely outraged, from commenting. "Not about the trust issues, you are right about that, but the Emp–my father was right. The Nine do want you to help save Nirn. I can tell, Dragonblood and all."_

_Two Blades, at Jauffre's look, came up behind Renae, ready to restrain her if necessary. Renae tensed as her instincts cried out and she twisted her head to the side to see the guards._

"_Don't even think about it." She snarled, before turning back to look back at the heir. The Dunmer stared at him incredulously for a moment, and then stalked out. Martin waved off the Blades when it looked like they would follow her._

_Oh yes, I was mad as a wounded kagouti, _Renae thought, then sighed. She was still surprised, indignant and angry that the Nine wanted to use her to stop Mehrunes Dagon. _Why not put me in my tomb with my ancestors right now? It would be quicker_. More thoughts floated around her head like a herd of netches, and eventually the Dunmer's eyes slid closed.

~.~.~

"The Imperial City – the heart of the Empire." One cloaked figure whispered, nervousness and disdain both present in his words and pose.

The other figure didn't look to her partner as she said, "It will be worse for me. The walls are so high, so constricting." She shivered.

"You win." The first figure replied.

They both stared at the rest of the view from the Valus Mountains, before starting down the steep slopes.

~.~.~

Renae flitted through the stores the next few days, getting her rings recharged, browsing the stock, and selling some unwanted trinkets she found in her pack. Eventually, the Dunmer ran out of things to do. She considered going to the Imperial Prison to annoy Valen Dreth, but decided that it was just too immature for someone nearly eighty years old.

So here she was, once again sitting at the small table in her rented room. Out of boredom, Renae decided to take a look at the three volumes of the _Commentaries_ she had, and then almost immediately regretted it.

_Ugh, I think I just became dumber_, the Dunmer thought when she had finished.

~.~.~

Two cloaked figures on top of horses were motionless on the hill. Just in front of them, was the Imperial City

"Well, here we are," One sighed, her voice blending with the breeze.

"Yes. Well, we better not keep poor Rae waiting." The other replied. They spurred their mounts to a canter down the hill.

~.~.~

Renae was sure she was going to go crazy in about an hour. Lying on the bed, she stared at the plain ceiling, thinking curses at anything and everything. _The monotony is going to kill me_, she thought. _I'm either stressed from what I have to do or bored out of my mind. Why? Boethiah, I hope you're laughing_.

There was a quiet tap at the window, and Renae's muscles locked. Slowly, she got up and approached the window. There, hanging on the window sill was Ethyra Brenos and Aryn Redoran. Filled with joy at seeing her relation and friend again, Renae rushed to the window, unlocked it and moved out of the way. The two assassins gracefully hefted themselves in, even with Ethyra's long spear, and Aryn shut the window silently. He hooked his hands on the hilts of his sickle-swords out of habit.

"What took you so long?" Renae asked.

"Well _sorry_." The sarcasm dripped from Ethyra's tone. Renae grinned and the two cousins hugged. Things got a bit awkward with Aryn, so they just shook hands instead. Renae waved them through and they all sat on the bed.

Aryn pulled his pack into his lap and dug through it, until he pulled out a golden katana in a plain sheath.

"A gift, from this humble Dunmer." He said, presenting it to Renae with a slight bow. She smiled, and took the offered weapon.

"Thank you, Aryn. You've learned Ashlander custom well." Renae excitedly unsheathed the blade, and stood up to experiment with it. The Dunmer twirled the sword around her in a beautiful but dangerous dance.

"It is called Goldbrand, I thought you might like it." Aryn commented. Renae stopped with a sigh, sheathed Goldbrand and put it with Ebony Blade, her bow and her quiver. Then the Dunmer came and sat back on the bed.

"So, are you going to tell me why Maela was so pissed? As in, more pissed than she normally is when you use her to send messages." Ethyra asked.

"One: I'm here in Cyrodiil. Two: Apparently lots of people here are deluded into thinking I've been chosen by the Nine to stop Dagon's invasion, so she isn't happy about that. Three: Apparently the Nine want to use me or some other crap, and once again, Maela isn't happy. I think you get the idea." Renae replied dryly.

The Dunmer chatted, Renae filling them in on the Oblivion Crisis, Ethyra and Aryn filling Renae in on Morrowind's latest gossip. Ethyra fidgeted on the bed, and her pack fell on the ground. There was an indignant squeak, and the bag started writhing. Renae stared in disbelief.

"Oops." Ethyra muttered, ducking down to pull a creature the size of her forearm out.

"You didn't."

"I did. I couldn't leave him at Vivec." Ethyra cuddled the scrib in her lap.

"Is this Racer, or a new one?" Renae asked, leaning over and petting the creature.

"This is Foyada."

"_Foyada_?" Renae asked flatly.

"Yes."

"_Fire river_?"

"Yes."

Renae shook her head. "You have got to be kidding me."

"No."

Aryn picked up Ethyra's bag and pulled out several volumes of the _Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes. _

"So, now you have at least one copy of each of the _Commentaries_. Now what?" Aryn asked.

"Well, that Altmer said to study it, so I assume there is something in that rubbish." Renae answered with a frown.

"Or it's just a test – if the words makes sense, you know you've gone crazy." Ethyra commented.

Renae shrugged. "A lead is a lead."

~.~.~

The three Dunmer were sprawled around the room in various positions, each surrounded by red books. Renae was lazing on the bed on her back. Ethyra was sitting in a chair, one boot on the table, the other on one of the shelves in the bookshelf. Aryn was lying on the floor, one arm behind his head, and crossed his legs. Foyada crawled around the room, chirping occasionally.

Ethyra threw one of the _Commentarie_s at Renae, who was asleep. The Dunmer started awake, dagger out, and looked around. Ethyra snickered.

"Hey, that wasn't nice. Show some respect and responsibility." Aryn chided. Ethyra resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at him.

"Urg. Ethie, was that necessary?" Renae groaned, flopping back on the bed.

"Yes. You looked like you were asleep, so I brought you back to the task." Renae's cousin looked innocent.

"That's your alibi." Renae growled, and then sighed, picking up one of the Commentaries. They had been looking for something – anything – in the books for hours, but nothing had jumped out of the pages. Aryn, out of boredom, grabbed a quill and wrote out the first letters of each paragraph, intending to try and make words with them. But as the letters appeared on the parchment, Aryn wondered if the words they spelled were a coincidence.

"Could you two pass me volumes one, two and four?" He asked his companions. The cousins shared a glance, but silently handed the books over. Aryn quickly flipped them open and started writing, then repeated the process for the next two _Commentaries_. He rewrote the sentence, this time separating the letters into proper words.

"What have you got?" Renae asked, getting up off the bed to kneel beside him. Ethyra followed suit, and they both looked at the words scrawled in Aryn's handwriting.

GREEN EMPEROR WAY WHERE TOWER TOUCHES MIDDAY SUN.

"Aryn, you're a genius." Renae muttered, stunned.

"That sneaky fetcher," Ethyra whispered. "Wait; is there a 'Green Emperor Way' somewhere?"

"Yeah. It's in the city, we'll go tomorrow." Renae answered, still surprised.

~.~.~

The three Dunmer walked through the Imperial City, all armed to the teeth. Passers-by looked wary and intimidated, and guards watched suspiciously for any aggressive movement. Renae was relaxed while Aryn was wary and Ethyra masked her distress. Both had the typical Dunmeri mask on their faces: a mixture of surliness, disgust, grimness and suspicion.

"Well, this is Green Emperor Way." Renae said, looking around the paths, and then looking up at the sky. It was around ten-thirty.

"So, any idea what we are supposed to be looking for?" Aryn asked.

"I assume to just look around." Renae replied.

The three Dunmer started their search, constantly going in a circle around the Imperial Palace, looking for anything that was related to the Mythic Dawn. Ethyra was getting more forlorn and edgy, to the point where Renae told her to go outside the city for a while. Ethyra objected, her pride not letting her accept the longed-for offer.

"Ethyra, go. You'll clear your head, and feel better. I don't want you snapping. What would I tell the Ashkhan?" Renae said flatly. Ethyra wavered, pride vs distress, but distress won out and the willowy Dunmer turned and gracefully escaped the city. Renae had a moment of jealousy, that her cousin could run away from problems and she could not, and frowned.

"What is it?" Aryn asked. Renae merely shook her head and went back to work.

~.~.~

Ethyra walked back to Green Emperor Way, still holding her spear tightly, but less stressed than she had been.

"What took you so long?" Renae called out. Ethyra merely grinned and rolled her eyes, approaching her cousin. It had only been a few hours. The Dunmer looked away from Renae, trying to find Aryn. A glimpse of red out of the corner of her eye made Ethyra whirl, spear ready, and saw a map glowing on a tomb.

"Renae, Aryn!" She called. The two Dunmer ran over to Ethyra, and stared at the tomb.

"I think that's it. I'll bet on Ald'ruhn the sign of the Mythic Dawn is the sun rising." Renae said, and then pulled out her worn map, that already had many dots and scribbles on it, and a quill. Putting her map up next to the glowing outline of Cyrodiil, she guessed where the dot was, making a note that it may not be accurate.

"Well, lady and gentleman, I think we've got the next lead." Renae stated triumphantly.

~.~.~

_Author's notes again:_ I'm taking a bit of creative license with Ebony Blade, since in-game only the hilt is black, which I think is a bit silly. Why call it Ebony Blade if the hilt is black and the blade is silver?


	8. Lake Arrius Caverns

**Chapter 8 – Lake Arrius Caverns**

"I don't know abut you, but I think this is it." Renae muttered. They all stared at the symbol subtly engraved on the plain wooden door.  
"Well, let's go get changed." Ayrn replied, and Renae pulled out two sets of Mythic Dawn robes from her pack.  
"Are you sure you don't want to be the newbie?" Renae asked. Both of her companions stared at her, then went in opposite directions to get changed. Renae sighed. _Fetchers_, she thought.

Ethyra and Aryn came back, in the crimson robes, and pulled the hoods up. Ethyra glanced longingly at her Spear of Bitter Mercy, which was with the horses, but made no comment.

"Well, let's do this. Rae, wait about twenty minutes before going into the caverns." Aryn ordered. Renae nodded, then turned and climbed a tree, making sure she could easily see the horses and the entrance.  
"Can you guys see me?" She called.  
"Yeah. Move to the left a bit." Ethyra called back. Renae adjusted her position.

"That's good." Aryn said then he turned and made his way inside, Ethyra following. Inside, there were a few tapestries, all centred around suns and daedra.

"Dawn is breaking." A low voice whispered. In the dim light, Aryn just made out a figure guarding another door.

"Greet the new day." Aryn and Ethyra chanted, keeping their faces concealed.  
"Welcome, Brother and Sister. The Master is here, so hurry." The voice echoed again, and there was a sound of a lock clicking. The two Dunmer made their way through to a hall, passing an old Dunmer, who glared at them suspiciously, then continuing through to the shrine.

"Holy Webspinner." Ethyra breathed as they stared at the sight before them.

~.~.~

_Well, that should be time enough_, Renae thought. She clambered down from the tree, then picked all the twigs and leaves off her. _Right, time to massacre the Dagon worshipers_, she thought.

The Dunmer pushed open the door an entered the caverns, waiting just inside the entry way until her eyes adjusted enough.

"Dawn is breaking." A voice murmured.  
"Greet the new day." Renae replied, taking a deep breath to stop her heart from speeding up.  
"Welcome, new Sister," Renae's eyes spotted a robed outline unlocking a door. "Go through and talk to Harrow. If you are quick, you might see the Master."

Renae followed the instructions, and heard a click from behind her as the door was locked. Coming to a stop at a Dunmer who was staring at her incredulously, Renae knew he wouldn't buy her story.

"What are you doing here? A little out of place for the likes of you." He hissed. Renae raised an eyebrow, a hand going up her sleeve. Harrow drew his mace as the dagger flew out, though it missed it's mark. He tackled Renae, and they fell in a squirming lump on the ground, wresting with each other. Harrow dragged the other Dunmer back up, holding her wrists behind her back.

Renae struggled, and her hand found a hilt. She grabbed it, unsheathing whatever it was and slammed it into Harrow's thigh. He cursed, falling back. Renae stamped on his foot, twisting out of his grip. She swung around, slashing her opponent's throat.

Harrow collapsed, choking on his own blood. Renae smirked coldly, even after the lights left the other Dunmer's eyes. Looking down, she saw that the handy weapon was a daedric dagger. She dragged the body into a shadowy niche, wiped the dagger on his robe and put the dagger in her pack. The Dunmer searched his corpse, finding another set of Mythic Dawn robes, one of the  
_Commentaries_ and a few coins.

She donned the robes, though she kept her greaves on underneath. Renae dumped her cuirass and pack in another niche, then pulled up the hood and trotted away.

Eventually, the Dunmer found the shrine, and froze in the doorway. The small tunnel opened up into a large cavern, and in the centre was Mehrunes Dagon's shrine built on top of a stone stage of some sort. There were several people in red robes standing on the ground. And standing in front of the statue, on the stage, was Mankar Camoran giving a speech. Who just so happened to be wearing the Amulet of Kings. She locked her muscles to prevent herself from running up to him and trying to claim the Amulet so that she could give it to Martin then get back home. That would be suicide right now.

"Shit-damn." Renae murmured, then remembered she had a job to do. The acolytes chanted something after every line Mankar said. As she descended the dirt ramp, Mankar finished his speech. He turned as a portal blared into life and walked through.  
_Bugger_.  
In her peripheral vision, Renae saw two of the people standing at the edge of the group look up at her. They both wrapped one arm around an elbow, the sign agreed on for Renae to be able to tell the other's apart. She wrung her hands, letting Ethyra and Aryn know that she saw them.

She made her way to the stage, deciding it would be the best route. Maybe someone would open that portal again and she could follow Camoran.  
"It seems we have a new Sister who wishes to bind herself to the service of Lord Dagon." One of the acolytes said, glancing at Renae.

"Advance, Initiate." A creepy-wannabe female voice called from the stage.  
Keeping her features shrouded, Renae plodded up the stairs. A female Altmer waited at the top, hood thrown back. _Harrow has been neglecting some customs_, Ruma frowned at the two katanas strapped to the initiate's slim waist. The Altmer put the thought aside to proceed with the induction ceremony.

"You wish to dedicate yourself to Lord Dagon's service," Ruma intoned. Renae controlled her emotions.  
_Hell no, n'wah_. "This pact must be sealed with the red-drink, blood of his enemies," _so I must slit my wrists. No thanks_. "Take the dagger and offer the life blood of the sacrifice as pledge of your own blood, which will be His in the end."  
Renae bowed her head, more to hide her emotions than deference, and walked to the podium where a silver dagger and a book rested. The Dunmer picked up the blade, then glanced at the Daedric script title out of curiosity.

Mysterium Xarxes.

She froze for a moment, then at Ruma's impatient huff, turned and stalked to the sacrifice on a stone slab under the statue of Mehrunes Dagon. Scraps of a plan weaved themselves together in her mind.

The Altmer watched the Dunmer, having a nagging suspicion about the initiate. Her aura was. . . off, somehow.

The hog-tied Argonian cracked open an eye, then squeezed it shut after seeing the red-robed silhouette looming over him. Renae adjusted her hold on the dagger, drew it back and plunged it down.

The Argonian felt the breath of air as the knife flew down, but no dagger touched him. His eyes opened wide to see his supposed executioner with her back to him. Renae had already thrown the knife.

Ruma's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets, then stared down at the blade embedded in her chest.

The crowd didn't know what to do until the Altmer crumpled to the ground, blood gushing onto the stonework. Some of the acolytes were cut down before they could summon armour and weapons – Aryn and Ethyra had started their assault.

Renae drew her swords and lunged at the enemies coming up the stairs. Having over half of a century of experience, she slew the unexperienced fanatics easily.

Though time seemed meaningless when one was fighting, it didn't seem to take too long to clear out the room. A few guards had heard the commotion and came to investigate, but were easily slain.

Renae glided up to the podium when they were finished, ignoring the Argonian's cry for assistance. Ethyra and Aryn paced near the exits, wary for any more Mythic Dawn members.

Sheathing Goldbrand, Renae picked up the Mysterium Xarxes with her left hand. Agony lanced through her wrist, and she dropped the book and Ebony Blade with a startled yelp. Behind her, there was a sound of stone falling, something organic getting pulverised and a gruff scream cutting off with a gurgle.

The three Dunmer turned to see the statue had collapsed, right on top of the Argonian. None really cared, since they were Dunmer and thought the lizard-men useless except for slaves.

"Booby-trap." Aryn muttered.

Pulling off her gauntlet, Renae stared at the tattoo encircling her wrist. It drank up the light, but the skin around it was an unusual red-violet.  
_It seems Dagon's book doesn't like Webspinner's ink_, she thought, rubbing her wrist.  
"Raynasa?" Ethyra called.  
"I'm fine." She replied, pulling on her gauntlet and sheathing Ebony Blade.

Renae bent over a nearby corpse and tore a large square of material off. Carefully, she placed it over the Mysterium Xarxes, then pulled the material underneath it with her right hand. The pain lanced through her left arm again, though not as strong as before. Still enough to make Renae hiss as she pulled the edges of the material together and tied it up like a knapsack.

"Care to explain?" Aryn asked, watching Renae descend the stage with the makeshift knapsack.  
"The Mysterium Xarxes doesn't like my tattoo." She said. Aryn and Ethyra both nodded, though the latter did smirk a little.  
"Shut up," Renae growled, "or you get to carry this."  
That wiped the expression from her cousin's face.  
"Well, if you're finished threatening Ethyra, let's clear this place out and go." Aryn drawled.  
"Redorans may go first." Ethyra motioned with her arm. He raised his eyebrows but led the way.

The three Dunmer were ruthless – silent as wraiths as they glided behind their victims and silenced them with a quick stab. Hiding the corpses was sometimes difficult and tedious, but it didn't matter too much. Soon no-one would be left alive.  
Renae eventually came to her stash. Shooing Ethyra and Aryn to be lookouts, she quickly changed back into her comfortable armour; tossing the Mythic Dawn robes on the ground, curling her upper lip in disgust.

After a half hour or so, they came to the entrance room again. They froze when they realised the guard was still there, blissfully unaware of the massacre that had just taken place. Ethyra sank lower in her crouch, staying against the wall like a second layer, but the guard noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned, but was too slow to stop Ethyra from tackling him to the ground and dragging her dagger across his throat.

She gave him a last kick for good measure and followed her companions out of Lake Arrius Caverns.


	9. Revelations

**Chapter 9 – Revelations**

The three horses cantered up Cloud Ruler Temple's stairs, Moonshadow in the lead. None of their Dunmer riders looked really comfortable; Aryn and Ethyra because they were in Cyrodiil and Renae because she once again had the Mysterium Xarxes in her pack. It had taken nearly two days to get here and had taken turns carrying the malevolent book. The Blades outside wondered what two more Dunmer were doing here but knew how well Renae could be a pain in the ass when she wanted to be, and would be cryptic on purpose to annoy them and because she didn't trust or like them.

"She'll probably have to answer to Jauffre about it," Cyrus said quietly, turning away from the majestic view from the Jerall Mountains to watch the newcomers.

Jena snorted as she came up next to him. "Yeah, right. Were you _there_ the last time she and the Grandmaster were in the same room?"

Everyone had heard about the amusing fight that had taken place. For a group of people good at keeping their mouths shut, the Blades sure could gossip like any gang of teenage girls.

"Point taken," he muttered.

"And it means more entertainment for us. I hope I'm on guard duty either in the Main Hall or in outside the Grandmaster's office in the next few days."

Cyrus rolled his eyes. "You should probably go inform Martin of their arrival. And the Grandmaster, probably. . ."

Jena grinned and trotted toward the buildings.

A few minutes later, Martin followed the Blade to the stables, where the three Dunmer were untacking their mounts. Martin noticed the two new katanas strapped to Renae's waist. The golden one shined coldly, while the other swallowed the light greedily. He made no comment.

"Martin," Renae greeted shortly. It was obvious she was pissed about something.

"Renae," he returned, and then glanced at the two new Dunmer. She noticed the glance.

"Ethyra, Aryn; Martin. Martin; Ethyra, Aryn."

The two parties gave each other wary nods. Martin knew enough from what Renae had told him that they would probably be worse than her.

Moonshadow nickered and head butted Renae's shoulder. She patted her horse absently and gave the animal an apple. Ethyra picked up her pack, and it chittered.

Renae half looked away, half rolled her eyes. "And Foyada," she muttered, irritated.

"Foyada?" Martin inquired, not expecting to get an answer.

"A scrib," she explained, just as the critter squawked and poked its white head out of Ethyra's bag.

"Aha," Martin said, unable to think of anything better to say.

They walked back to the main hall, where Jauffre waited. He raised an eyebrow at seeing two more Dunmer who looked just as surly as Renae.

"Renae has some companions – Ethyra and Aryn," the Dragonborn filled in, watching the nearly tangible tension rise as the three Dunmer gazed darkly at the Breton, who all too happily returned the look.

"With two helpers, surely you have the Amulet of Kings," Jauffre said. Renae understood his implied insult, as they didn't have the artifact.

"_You_ go get it from Paradise," she snapped, then turned to Martin. "It might not be what you wanted, but I have a present for you."

Ethyra noticed the wording her cousin used, and made a mental note to interrogate Renae later. Meanwhile, Renae slipped her pack off her back, then pulled out the Mysterium Xarxes with a hiss and tossed it on the table. His eyes widened as he looked at the malevolent book.

"By the Nine! Such a thing is dangerous even to handle!"

"No shit," Renae snarled.

Martin studied her carefully, and then said, "I suggest all of you get cleaned up. Hopefully the side effects will wear away with time."

That was a good enough dismissal and Renae led the way out of the main hall.

~.~.~

Several hours later, in the corner near the fire; Ethyra, Renae and Aryn were having a muttered conversation in Dunmeri.

"_There was a rumour going around not long ago, centered in Solstheim. They say a seer foresaw all this,_" Aryn muttered.

"_Did he say the outcome?"_ Renae queried.

"_No._"

"_Figures_," she mumbled.

"_Can you remember it word for word?_" Ethyra asked anxiously.

"_No – anything to do with the Empire isn't important, remember?_" He smiled mockingly. "_All I can recall is something about dragons and empires dying and stemming a blood tide._"

"_Well, the Emperor is the Dragonblood_," Renae shrugged; which cued all three of them to glance over at Martin who was currently reading the Mysterium Xarxes, frequently pausing to write something down on a piece of parchment.

"_Yes, so now it makes a marginal amount of sense. Sometimes I wonder why seers are always so cryptic,_" Aryn concluded.

Over at the table, Martin slammed the Mysterium Xarxes shut; and the three Dunmer flinched at the sting from their tattoo, Renae's jolt being the worst. In unison they stood up to drift away to various places.

~.~.~

Renae strode out, swiftly walking up the eastern rampart, and leaned against the cold stone wall. The wind howled fiercely, blowing snow and freezing air into the Dunmer, who shivered violently but kept gazing in Morrowind's general direction, feeling the familiar wash of nostalgia.

Renae wrapped her hand around her left wrist, grimacing. _Stupid book_, she thought, framing curses at the text and its creator.

"Renae?" The gale blew the call into her face, but the Dunmer didn't acknowledge it. _Go away. You're the second last person I want to talk to right now,_ she thought.

"There you are." Martin appeared beside her. "Are you well? You don't seem very good, worse than your friends."

She frowned. Why did he have to be so damn observant?

"I'm fine," she said shortly.

"I doubt that," he replied.

Renae sighed. Unable to come up with a better explanation, she merely said, "I just had to carry that damned book the most." _And found out the hard way that there is a mutual dislike between it and my tattoo. . ._

He raised a disapproving eyebrow as Renae absently rubbed her wrist again, grimacing.

"What's that?" Martin asked, almost but not quite suspicious.

Renae shrugged, feigning indifference. "It's just a bit sore, I landed on my wrist wrong at one stage."

Something told Martin that she was lying, and he should pull the Dunmer up on it. "Why don't I believe you?" he replied evenly.

"How would I know? I'm not outlander nor Dragonborn."

"I think you do know," Martin muttered as he grabbed her forearm. Pain once again jolted through Renae's arm, though this time form coming in contact with something Aedra-touched. _Wait, that's not all_, she thought as she felt a faint touch of Daedric magicka. Now she really did suspect he had been a Daedra-worshiper in years past.

Hissing, "Let go," she jerked her arm and tried in vain to cast the simple spell which would render the pigment invisible to any sort of inspection. The only problem with the spell was it didn't work in rare instances such as the current one, where the ink has been irritated by something. Martin pulled off her glove, then undid her bracer and slid it off. Renae froze in partially anxious anticipation of his reaction, praying he wouldn't know what it was.

Martin's gaze was drawn to the source of her discomfort, and could feel the Daedric magicka radiating from the tattoo. It felt dark and subtle, weaving dastardly plots to ensnare and murder. The inflamed skin around it was an angry red.

"Would you mind explaining?" he asked levelly.

"Only if you tell me what you have done that would result in a Daedric imprint," Renae bargained darkly. She was hoping that like most non-Dunmer, he wouldn't want to admit to any sort of Daedra worship.

Martin sighed bitterly. "Deal. I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner."

"Damn." Renae spent a minute searching for some way to worm out of the agreement. Finding none that wouldn't result in Mephala letting her Daedric servants supply a guaranteed painful end, Renae spoke slowly and unwillingly. "It's a sign of devotion to the Webspinner." _Wait, this will probably result in Mephala killing me anyway_, Renae realised. _Shit_.

"I've researched Mephala's worshipers. They don't normally get such a tattoo."

"Oh?" she questioned delicately.

Martin ignored her and pondered possible reasons before it clicked. He stared at her in shock.

"You're not."

"Not what?"

"One of. . ."

"Yes, I am."

He dropped her arm like he had received an electric shock, and then turned to stare out at the storm. Renae stifled a wicked chuckle at his reaction.

"Well. . . this is unexpected," he finally said, thoughts in a turmoil. _She's helping us, but she's a murderer. We wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for Renae, but no doubt half the things she learned was in training to kill._

Renae replaced her bracer and gauntlet and muttered, "It's a position of high honour. Without the Morag Tong, Morrowind would've collapsed into civil war long ago," she made a face, and then continued, "of course, now any rich bastard can organise an execution. We're undervalued."

"But how could you kill someone in cold blood? Where's your conscience?"

"It's just how Dunmer _are_, Martin," a small unimpressed smirk graced her features. "Surely you would know that our nation is founded on Daedric principles, so it's natural that there would be a legal faction of assassins."

Martin frowned, though Renae caught the faint touch of thoughtfulness.

"Don't even think that once you're Emperor you can make the Tong illegal, Septim. That would result in Morrowind rescindering our agreement with the Empire, and then chances are it would start a war - something I doubt you want."

"You don't think there's another way?"

She shook her head tightly. "You may find it barbaric, but once you meet the lying Hlaalus, egotistical Telvannis and uptight Redorans you'll see how assassination is tolerated."

They stood there for a while, both lost in their own thoughts which were as wild as the raging storm.

Renae burst the bubble of silence. "You owe an explanation as well."

A shadow crossed Martin's face as he said, "When my friends and I were young, we grew tired of Mages Guild restrictions so we left and sought out Daedric Princes," he sighed in remembrance of some bad happening, and then continued. "Terrible things happened, people died. . ."

"That's generally what happens with Daedra, to both the prepared and the unprepared." _And I have little to no sympathy for any unaware fool who gets ensnared and killed_. Martin scowled but didn't reply, instead staring moodily at the raging storm.

"What are you going to do now?"

"Could you please repeat that?" Martin asked.

"Are you going to dob us in, like a good little priest?" Worry made her more belligerent than normal.

The heir considered that. "Not at this point in time," he said slowly, "however, I'll need time to think of whether you and your friends should remain here and assist us."

"Oh, shit," the Dunmer mumbled. _I'm little more than an insect caught in a spider web. I hope I got points for trying_.

Martin heard her quiet curse and looked up. "What was that?"

She looked away and said nothing.

"You know more than you are telling. If you have a good reason for me to continue enlisting your aid, speak up."

"The Webspinner. . . told me to stick around until this was over. . . or I'll die slowly and painfully. As much as I hate the Empire, I'm no fool and I value my life."

Martin exhaled heavily. Now he had another point to consider: if he sent Renae away, he would be signing her death certificate. "Well, Jauffre said something about spies, so I suggest you go speak to him. When you finish that task, I'll have an answer for you."

The Dunmer nodded brusquely and walked away.

~.~.~

"Martin said you know something about spies?" Renae said bluntly.

"Yes," the old man replied just as rudely, "but go bother Steffan – he has time to tell you more." And with that the Grandmaster walked inside.

"Fetcher," Renae muttered.

After a bit of investigating, she found the aforementioned Steffan.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" he asked politely.

"Jauffre said you know something about the spies?"

"Yes. We've seen them near the runestone around dusk, and others have reported it as well. They aren't particularly knowledgeable about the forest and have only shown up these past few nights," he said, then abruptly became exasperated. "We're all tied up, since we can't just leave the Temple undefended while we go looking for them. So Grandmaster Jauffre has forbidden us to range too far from Cloud Ruler Temple."

"Well, lucky me. I get to go hunting for the Dagon-worshipers." Renae smiled, though it was more in anticipation than in friendliness to the Blade.

"Really? You are lucky." Steffan sighed. "It's annoying being holed up here, while you get the freedom to attack the enemy we all crave! Make sure you find out what the spies know, and if they have any plans."

Renae nodded once, then turned and prowled down the hall.

"Good luck," Steffan called after her.

~.~.~

She found Aryn in the stables and Ethyra on the roof of the main building, and summarized what had transpired and their task when they were all in the corner of the stable. Ethyra wasn't impressed with her blunder, while Aryn cut Renae some more slack.

"Well, it was sundown an hour ago – we should see if those spies are still there," Aryn stated, focusing on the task at hand.

"Agreed," Ethyra chimed.

"Right, but we shouldn't use the front door to the Temple – let's see if we can scale one of the walls," he suggested.

"Good idea," Renae said, then pulled her pack over and dug through it until she pulled out some rope. "And look what I have."

"Well let's go," her cousin said urgently.

Luckily, the storm had all but dissipated completely, though the clouds still loomed ominously. It didn't take long to find the shortest wall – the one right behind the stables. Better yet the place couldn't be seen from the road, so the spies wouldn't be alerted. Aryn tied the rope around a drain pipe and tested it; then gripped the rope tightly and began his descent.

Ethyra and Renae waited until Aryn was safely on the ground, then Ethyra went next. Lastly, Renae abseiled down. They silently prowled down the mountain, careful to try and stay in as much shadow as possible. Stopping behind a large rock not forty feet away from the runestone, Ethyra motioned for her companions to regroup. The other two obliged, and then Renae peeked around the rock and spotted two figures at the rock formation. While the glowing viridian symbols on the runestone provided little light, Renae managed to make out that one was a Mer, and the other looked suspiciously like a woman she was sure lived in Bruma. As she continued to puzzle over the spy's identity, the two figures walked away; albeit without any skill in stealth whatsoever.

"Alright, their moving away," Renae reported quietly. "Who's tailing who and who's staying here?"

"I'll stay and keep an eye out for anyone else," Ethyra whispered.

"So, what does each spy look like?" Aryn asked.

"Both are female; one's a Mer while the other one is. . . I'm not sure."

"I'll follow the Mer," Aryn said.

"Let's go," Renae replied.

It was painfully easy for the sneaky Dunmer to pursue their quarry back to a cave. The elfin spy, who they saw was a Dunmer, lingered while the other spy went right on ahead. Aryn and Renae looked at each other. He pointed at himself, then at the Dunmer in the way. Then his eyes flicked from her to the door. Renae nodded and fell back further into shadow.

"You know that you should leave proper information-gathering to those who are actually good at it," Aryn casually said as he strode forward. The Dunmer started and turned around, casting the summons for armour and a mace. Aryn strode forward, drawing his sickle-swords. When Renae was sure both were completely absorbed in the fight, she skittered across the room into the passageway.

Sinking back into her crouch, Renae continued along until she saw the end of the passageway open up into a larger area. The Dunmer slowed down and pressed against the wall as she carefully edged forward. Seeing no-one around when she was in the entryway to the cavern, Renae checked for traps then made a beeline for the door over the other side.

Renae put her ear to the door and heard a chair scraping against stone. She pulled out her skeleton key and delicately picked the lock, then eased the wooden door open. Renae saw clearly that the woman hunched over a desk was a Redguard. Making no noise, even breathing with caution, Renae opened the door wider and entered; then slunk up behind the woman.

The Redguard started at the shing of metal, but couldn't move quick enough to prevent Renae winding one hand through her hair and holding the dagger to her throat.

"You know, it's sort of embarrassing that your side is winning," Renae chirped, falsely chipper as she looked over the Redguard's shoulder and saw some important-looking notes. Ignoring whatever the Redguard said in reply, she quickly skimmed over the text.

"Well, it looks like I don't have a use for you after all," the Dunmer informed her prisoner happily, then slit her throat.

Renae wiped her dagger clean and sheathed it, then gripped the notes and left the room. She was less careful going back through the tunnels, though still alert. Coming back to the place where she had left Aryn; Renae saw that he had the Dunmer on her stomach on the ground, he was sitting on her back and pinning her arms.

"We don't need her," Renae informed him, to which Aryn nimbly broke his prisoner's neck.

"Let's get back the Ethyra, then back to the Temple," he said.

~.~.~

"Have fun reporting what you found," Ethyra said.

"Say what?" Renae asked dumbly.

"You found it, you show it. I don't know about you, Redoran, but I'm going to sleep," she replied. Aryn nodded and they both took off.

"Fetchers," Renae muttered, then turned on her heel and walked into the main hall.

Walking straight up the Grandmaster, Renae wasted no time on greetings and dumped the letters on the table in front of Jauffre. He carefully read through the note titled 'Jearl's Orders', then the letter which was the said Jearl's reply.

"Good work," he conceded grudgingly. "The gods didn't idly choose you as their agent, whatever you may think."

Renae snorted.

"Anyway, it is clear Mankar Camoran is going to act against Bruma soon. I will inform the Countess immediately of the danger."

The Dunmer gave a cold nod then left.


	10. Verdict

**Chapter 10 – Verdict**

Martin stared at his notes, but couldn't concentrate; the words he read merely went in one ear and out the other. He steadily became more frustrated until he abruptly stood up and left the main hall, his bodyguard following like an obedient shadow.

_What can I do? _Martin wondered wearily_. I don't think I can trust Renae again, but I don't believe we can win against the Prince of Destruction without her aid_. He looked up at the cloud-covered sky. _Are you enjoying this?_ he screamed at the Gods. _Do you take pleasure from these things? Why me? Why Renae?_

Martin wished he was the farmer's son he had been raised to believe, the simple priest who shouldn't second guess the Nine. But no, he had to be the illegitimate heir to a throne he didn't want; he had to be the light shining in the shadows of uncertainty and fear. _And what help does the Nine send me? Three Dunmer who hate the Empire!_ Martin leaned against the cold stone wall. _All this would be easier if I could place my faith in Akatosh, but I can't. Not now. He let a whole city be razed before Renae could find me! There was once a time when I could tell others to trust in the divine plan of the Gods, but I cannot accept that advice myself. _

Martin had locked himself in a stalemate. He knew they couldn't win without Renae, Aryn and Ethyra, however the fact that at least one of them killed innocents without pity or remorse seemed to large to simply overlook. Martin wouldn't be surprised if either Aryn or Ethyra was an assassin too. _In fact_, he realized, Renae, _being an Ashlander, probably wouldn't have met or became friends with Aryn if he wasn't an assassin_. He sighed. None of his options were pleasing.

But after ten seconds of contemplating other options with an out-of control imagination, he knew he couldn't sentence her to death, even if she was an ancestor and Daedra worshiping assassin. It felt. . . rather unnerving that all this time, Renae could have killed him if if she wished.

But worse was knowing that every ounce of respect Martin had for Renae had slid off the scales and into a murky pond, where it was unlikely said respect would ever see the light of day again. Sure, he respected and feared her skills and profession, but all the admiration and friendly feeling he held had drowned with his respect.

Martin shook his head. He had no choice: Renae and her sidekicks must fend off Oblivion. Surely their practice of murdering would be of some assistance? _But I cannot conceive of how they could decide to assassinate people in the first place!_

_However. . . _one part of Martin's mind spoke up,_ Renae said her tribe gets massacred by her own race. Perhaps Renae and Ethyra joined the Morag tong to put any influence they gained into stopping the attacks. Besides, they're Dark elves - their customs are different from yours. The Tong is even legal! Their politics and stability rely on it._

The priestly habit of thinking about things from the perspective of others had made its spectacular comeback. Old habits died hard. But it did provide Martin with the tolerance to put up with three assassins under his shook his head sadly._ But I don't think I'll ever be able to trust them properly again. It doesn't matter if they've kept their knives sheathed so far, I won't let any harm come to anyone here._

Abruptly, the tiredness that had gnawed away at him for the last few hours made itself fully known, and he felt utterly exhausted. _I'll tell Renae in the morning_, he thought as he shuffled inside and to his quarters.

~.~.~

Baurus rode up the steps of Cloud Ruler Temple, thinking of what a pleasant morning it was. The sky was an unobstructed sheet of blue; the sun was nearly warming the landscape and made the snow glitter like it was made of tens of thousands of diamonds. An eagle lazily soared through the sky, and seemed to screech in joy at the opportunity to stretch it's wings.

He dismounted from his rented bay horse and led the mare to the stables, smiling and greeting every comrade he passed. Baurus was a well-liked Blade. When he entered the stable, he saw three other horses. One looked like the incarnate of storm clouds, while the other two were a more generic chestnut and white. Baurus untacked and brushed his horse then led her into a stall with fresh food and water.

When he walked out of the stables, two things happened nearly simultaneously. Baurus saw Renae standing in front of the door to the west wing, a look nothing short of suspicion etched onto her face. And fifty kilograms of Imperial and amour narrowly avoided slamming into him.

"Hi Baurus!" Jena said, a little embarrassed that she had forgotten her dignity for a moment and had nearly hugged him. Baurus grinned despite himself. Jena was even younger than him and was almost always lighthearted and mischievous. Until she got into battle, that was.

"How has it been up here, Jena?" he asked, stealing one more glance over at the west wing. Renae had vanished.

"Oh, you should have been here," Jena replied, then lowered her voice some. "Before that Dark Elf went to help you, she and the Grandmaster had _the_ most entertaining fight. It was brilliant."

Recalling how easily she had argued with him in the sewers, Baurus said, "Why am I not surprised?"

They walked back to the entrance to the main hall, where Jena stayed to finish her shift, but Baurus went inside. He looked around, seeing one table nearly completely hidden by books, but the heir he was anxious to meet wasn't there. So instead Baurus headed for the kitchen. The cooks would surely be able to have something ready for him by the time he had finished his report to the Grandmaster on what had happened in the Imperial City and in his little extra excursion.

~.~.~

Renae paced the west wing dormitory. Every Blade at Cloud Ruler was awake or sleeping in the other dormitory, so the room provided surprising privacy. Aryn's brow was creased as he thought. Ethyra was half listening, half keeping an eye on Foyada as the little creature explored the wooden room to distract herself from her discomfort. She hated being inside solid buildings or cities for a long periods of time.

"He should have been back here before us. So why did he only arrive now?" Renae wondered. She had simply written it off that they had both been busy or he had been given another assignment to complete. _And this is the price of my lazy assumption_, she thought. _Assumptions are worse than relying on luck_.

"Perhaps he had other errands to complete, or he was sent to get something," Aryn suggested.

"It is a possibility, however caution is telling me not to believe that," Ethyra replied, pulling her scrib out of one of the sleeping mats and onto her lap.

Ever-logical, Aryn calmly pronounced, "So the questions are: what was he doing and does it concern us?"

"Knowing how cruel the Daedra and the Aedra are, I would say this will be bad," Renae growled. "Baurus had no reason to dawdle back, unless he got another assignment via courier or for personal reasons. I know next to nothing about his personal life, but I doubt he's in a relationship. Baurus is married to his job."

"Well, we'll find out soon enough," Aryn stated.

"Yeah, that's so comforting," Renae said darkly.

Aryn frowned at her. What had Renae so tense. "Sera, what is preying on your mind?"

"Oh, only my life and if I'll live to see Morrowind again," she replied. "If Martin rejects our help, and I can't stop Dagon, Webspinner will send assassins to torture me to death."

"Cheerful," Ethyra said, her brows knitted with worry. "What can we do to force his hand?"

"Not a thing," Aryn finished bleakly.

Silence settled over the Dunmer, even Foyada was quiet. Then Ethyra's eyes lit up with inspiration. "We may not be able to decide our fate, but come with me, Rae." Ethyra stood up, carefully placing her pet on the ground, and motioned for her cousin to follow her. Confused but not unwilling, Renae fell in step behind her cousin. Aryn also looked confused, but stayed where he was, and absently patted Foyada when the little creature waddled past him.

~.~.~

Renae and Ethyra sat on the roof of the stables, enjoying the fresh air.

"I must admit," Renae murmured, tucking a stray lock of hair behind an elegantly pointed ear, "I'm still somewhat surprised that you were the only one willing to come with me when I left the Ashlands."

"Ah, but among Urshilaku, any tribe member is close family. How silly of you to forget, sister," Ethyra teased. "Besides, I always wanted to get a good look at a silt strider, something which most likely wouldn't have happened if I stayed." She reached back to undo her tight plaited hair. The clumsy fingers of the wind tried to plait her light brown hair again, but only succeeded in providing a more decent challenge for her hairbrush.

Renae's lips turned up, nearly a smile. "This is probably the happiest I've seen you since you've arrived in Cyrodiil, especially compared to the last few days." Renae frowned slightly in thought, something tugging at her memory. "Oh, except for when you threw that book at me. . ." Ethyra smirked in wicked satisfaction. "Are you ever going to apologize for that, by any chance?"

"Don't hold your breath." Ethyra smirked, but then her expression fell flat. "But there's something else I need to apologize for. . ." Renae waited patiently, knowing from her own grapples with pride how hard it was to overcome the egotistical part of oneself. "I'm sorry for being a little hard when you spoke of how you told Martin. I should have remembered this is a priest we're talking about - they have some strong intuition."

"I don't mind you getting ticked off, as long as you'll defend my back from the unmourned House," Renae replied, secretly glad that her cousin had gotten over it.

They fell into a comfortable silence, both happy to be on good terms with each other.

Ethyra's thoughts lingered on the annoying heir. She remembered that she wanted to ask her cousin something concerning him. "Why did you say to that heir 'I have a present for you'?"

"He had always been polite and reasonable, and I repaid it as any Ashlander would."

"Then may the outlanders come to respect our customs," Ethyra said sagely, mocking Shara from their tribe.

Renae snorted and lightly clipped Ethyra's shoulder. "Yeah, as if. By the way, you can't imitate Shara's voice at all. Her voice is gentle and lower pitch than that. Say, how is everyone?"

Ethyra smiled at her cousin. "I never thought you would ask." And she jumped into an enthusiastic recital of everything of interest in the Urshilaku camp. One of the things Ethyra had always liked about Renae was that she was an avid listener and always showed some reaction to whatever was said.

The night had claimed the sky before Ethyra was finished, and they both retreated from the rooftops inescapable coldness. Renae had taken two steps towards the mess hall before Jauffre swooped in front of her and said, "You should speak to Martin, I believe he has made progress with the Mysterium Xarxes." With the obligatory glare - which Renae only too happily returned - he turned on his heel and walked stiffly away. Renae and Ethyra shared an identical look of wanting to inflict pan on the Breton. "That's immediately, Dark Elf," he growled when he was in the doorway, knowing they hadn't moved.

"N'wah!" Ethyra and Renae spat quietly in unison. They shared a smirk, too, before Renae's face hardened. But Ethyra caught the split-second of worry on her face.

"_May Veloth guide your steps and our ancestors protect your soul, sister_," Ethyra murmured in Dunmeri.

"_Blessings of Moon-and-Star, sister_," Renae murmured, then turned and resolutely walked towards the decider of her fate in the main hall.

She announced her arrival to Martin by actually letting her boots make a noise as they made contact with the timber flooring. Baurus, standing five feet away and acting as Martin's bodyguard, wondered why her face was set in stone as she approached the heir's mini-library. _We still know so little about her, _he fretted. She was acting subtly different, and it did little to ward off Baurus' overprotective paranoia. _She covers her tracks too well. I could only find gossip and why she was imprisoned when I searched around._

Martin too looked up, and one part of him hoped she had spent all this time worrying about his decision. He quickly reprimanded and silenced that part of him, however, and said, "Baurus, could you please excuse Renae and I?" Despite his sudden misgivings, Baurus obediently moved back a few yards. "Thank you."

Renae bit her tongue against making the first sound, her heart beginning to beat a bit faster. An Ashlander showed neither fear apprehension, which would've been obvious in her voice.

His insight telling him she wasn't going to say anything, Martin decided to begin. "I have come to my verdict, Renae, on whether you, Aryn and Ethyra should stay here." Again, she was silent, merely staring at him with her blood-red eyes. "You can stay."

Relief so sudden and so strong hit her full on, as if someone had thrown a dremora at her, but her only outward reaction was to blink and smile. Then, as her next thought hit her, she had to grapple with the pride gagging her. "My humblest thanks, muthsera." She doubted he even heard her, as she spoke so quietly.

"I am, however, concerned about the safety of everyone in Cloud Ruler Temple. I know you dislike most of the people here, but you nor your companions must not lay one hand on them."

Renae's eyes held a seal of promise as she said, "As long there isn't a writ with their name on it, my knife stays firmly in its sheath."


	11. The Bruma Gate

**Chapter 11 - The Bruma Gate**

Martin glanced around at the three Dunmer, hoping he was concealing his apprehension and distaste well enough. "I've deciphered the first part of the ritual to open a portal to Paradise. It says four items are required, but I've only decoded the first item: 'the Blood of a Daedra Lord'."  
"So, speaking basic Cyrodiillic it would translate to a Daedric artifact," Aryn theorized.  
"Indeed." Martin nodded. "I assume that acquiring something Daedric would be child's play for any of you, so. . ."  
"Getting an artifact won't be hard. Rather, it will be finding a Prince to do a job for without offending any of our patrons that's going to be a challenge," Renae noted.  
"You mean any of _your_ patrons," Aryn corrected. "But perhaps we needn't even travel anywhere at all."  
"Possibly," Renae conceded grudgingly, "However, I quite enjoy my trinkets, and I wouldn't wish for any of them to be destroyed."  
"There's no way in Red Mountain that I'm giving up my Spear of Bitter Mercy," Ethyra added firmly.

They each thought about their options, but couldn't seem to think of a solution that would allow them to stay without losing something valuable.

All four of them jerked their heads around when the door burst open. A messenger, panting and distressed, didn't bother to shut the door as he ran up to Jauffre. "Grandmaster, sir! Lady Carvain wishes to inform you of an Oblivion gate right outside Bruma!" He took a breath to steady his nerves, and then continued, "She requests you send reinforcements to bolster the guard ranks."

Renae's face hardened when Jauffre glanced in her direction. "I can do better than that, emissary," the Breton replied. "I can send the Hero of Kvatch and her companions."  
Those words made the messenger's eyes widened in delight. "How wonderful, Grandmaster! All of Bruma thanks you. I shall inform the Countess and Captain Burd immediately!" He left just as suddenly as he arrived, but this time remembering to shut the door behind him.

"Well, you three – gather what you need and get going!" Jauffre barked.

_S'wit_, Renae thought.

~.~.~

"Of course, we have to do their dirty work and hold the guards' hands while we put our lives on the line!" Ethyra fumed, obviously in a huff.  
"Naturally," Renae replied, just as acerbic as she said, "incompetent fools."  
Aryn frowned thoughtfully. He was always acting as the voice of logic and reason in order to bring balance the easily-offended Ashlanders. "Think of it this way - we're going into Mehrunes Dagon's realm, so it should be a much more comfortable temperature than this blasted cold." He unintentionally shivered a little to emphasize his argument.  
"Good point," Ethyra allowed. "But we'll be with outlander guards, so our normal sneak strategy won't work..."  
"Good thing you thought of that now, Ethyra. We might as well plan now so we'll know what to do," Renae said. She tapped her gloved fingers against Goldbrand's hilt.  
"Agreed," Aryn nodded.

They discussed every strategy they could think of and judged whether they would work considering their environment, allies and enemies. The three Dunmer finished their discussion as they turned off the road towards the burning portal.  
"Oh, I think I can see the Gate from here," Renae muttered in a bad Imperial accent. Ethyra and Aryn snickered. They fell silent, however, just a second afterwards as they neared the guards.

"Thanks for coming," the burly man who could only be Captain Burd said. "It's great the Hero of Kvatch available - it will be better to rendezvous with you this first time. We're ready when you are."  
"Let's get this over and done with," Renae replied.  
"Alright, just give me a minute to talk with my men. They're a bit jumpy right now."

Renae looked over at the City Guard with unhidden distaste. Most were nearly scared out of their minds, which gave Renae the urge to roll her eyes. _Fools_, she thought, disgusted, _this may be bad, but at least your people aren't constantly culled and forced into the most inhospitable land. _

"Alright boys, listen up," the Captain boomed. Everyone gave him their full attention. "We're going to close that Gate over there. Nobody likes the idea of going near that thing, but it's our job so we're going to do it! If we don't, Bruma will end up a smoking pile of ruins like Kvatch. And that's not going to happen here! Not while I'm Captain of the Guard! Bor, Soren, you're with me. Everyone else stay here and kill anything that comes out of that Gate."  
"Except us," Aryn muttered.  
"Let's show those bastards how we do things in Bruma!"  
The guardsmen cheered, beating their weapons against their shields. _We'll see how long their confidence lasts once we're in the Deadlands_, Ethyra thought.

Two guards joined Captain Burd, and Renae decided she wanted to make a few things clear. "Listen closely. Most of our foes in the Deadlands are easy enough to kill if we use strategy. Don't engage them in combat unless I say so." Renae primarily looked at Bor and Soren. "Try to stay out of their notice and keep your senses sharp. Even the environment will work against us. Lastly, stick together." Renae turned, drawing Goldbrand, and started towards the gate.  
"Archers at the back, weapons ready," Aryn ordered before he and Ethrya fell into step on either side of Renae. He glanced back once to see if they had done as commanded, and secretly felt some relief that outlanders could follow orders from those more knowledgeable.

The Dunmer didn't hesitate when they reached the fiery wall - they kept on walking without a backwards glance. Ethyra even sighed with relief at the thought of the warmer temperature. Captain Burd hesitated a single moment, watching the three get swallowed by the portal, before following suit. Soren stepped in next, bow ready. Bor took one quick glance back to his beloved home before notching an arrow and walking in.

~.~.~

Goldbrand swung through the air, and cleanly sliced through the attacking branch. With a backwards glance, Renae said, "Watch out for the harrada plants – they'll thrash you if you're not careful." Her fellow Dunmer kept their eyes on their surroundings, as they already knew. The Bruma guards, however, nodded. Out of the three, Captain Burd was keeping himself together the best. While his face might be flushed and he was sweating rivers to rival the lakes of lava, he was focused and ready for battle. The other two were clearly trying to model themselves after Burd, with varying levels of success.

"So exactly how do we get up the towers?" Burd asked, frowning at the gate blocking the path.  
"Since one cannot get inside the Sigil keep from ground level, we have to get up one of the smaller towers." Renae pointed at one of the small bridges spanning the gap between the two imposing buildings.  
"The nearest tower is only about a hundred feet away," Ethyra said. "If we climb up that outcrop, we can easily get past that gate and have an advantageous position."  
Renae clicked her tongue, trying not to smirk. "You up for the exercise, guards?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned and trotted towards the rocks, with Ethyra at her side.  
Aryn raised an eyebrow, and then shook his head. "Annoying Ashlanders - they have to climb _everything_, don't they? But it is a reasonable idea, I'll admit..." He turned and properly addressed his forced companions for the first time. "Just follow those two; they know what they're doing."  
"But how can you guys keep going?" Soren asked, exhausted. "It's bloody hot and we've been basically running for the past fifteen minutes!"  
"You need to exercise more," Aryn advised. He took a deep breath of the sulphurous and ash-filled air then continued, "But to be polite and answer your question, these conditions are remarkably similar to those found in the Ashlands. Now, I may not be an Ashlander, but I'm just as fit as my two friends over there, so this is easy. Come along – we have wasted enough time." Aryn began to follow Renae and Ethyra.

The two women showed off their Ashlander skills by climbing up the outcrop quickly and gracefully. It wasn't anything special to them. They had years of experience and from that experience they were bold and sure-footed. Renae and Ethyra were now at the top, surveying the land around the tower.

Aryn held back a smirk, watching the guard's faces as they had tracked the women's movements. Even Burd looked impressed, but not nearly as surprised or awed as his comrades.

"We better not keep them waiting. Waiting for others to catch up isn't what Ashlanders are known for," Aryn commented. He kept pace with the Bruma Guard, lending a hand when necessary. While Aryn held Bor and Soren in the same disregard as his fellow Dunmer, he respected Burd. _I am a tolerant native-born Dunmer, aren't I?_ He thought as he heaved Bor up. _Must be the Redoran blood and the way my parents raised me_.

Soon - but not soon enough for the Ashlanders - everyone was up the top.

"Took your time," Ethyra commented. "We could've taken that daedroth out before you all made it up!"

"Not everyone was raised in the rocky wilderness," Aryn replied dryly. "But I'm guessing you two waited not out of the kindness in your hearts but because you want to show off some more."

"Actually no," Renae rebuked, "it was because of what's down there." She jerked her head down to the base of the closest tower. There were some jagged pillars which would no doubt hurl spells at passersby and a mine or two embedded in the charred earth. Also, loitering around outside was a hulking daedroth.

Aryn nodded to himself. "Yes, you wanted to show off."

"There'll be time for discussion later," Burd snapped. "We need to find a way to kill that thing and close this gate."

"And that, Redoran, is why we waited," Ethyra said in a low voice. "So we can educate the guards on the best way to get through this mess."

"Okay," Renae began, "you see those pillars over there?" The Bruma guards spied the objects that matched her words, and then nodded. "The fiery tops will start spinning around when you approach, which is a warning. You have to get out of range quickly, so it will stop spinning, or it will lob fire balls at you. There is a similar set up on the mines. They'll float when you get too close and then explode if you stay within its range."

Burd looked back down towards the traps with a look of grudging appreciation. "And the daedroth?" he inquired.

"Split up and keep moving," Renae answered before Ethyra could. No matter what her cousin liked to believe, this was Renae's show and she was the ultimate leader.

"I think a demonstration is in order," Ethyra said with a smirk, taking in the guards' faces. They all appeared to be struggling with the concept of dividing one's forces when facing such a monstrous enemy.

A wordless understanding passed between the cousins. Renae vaulted over the boulder they were using as cover and began leaping down the rocks with the speed and grace of a Skyrim snow leopard. Ethyra also made her way down with enough confidence and agility to rival her cousin.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Renae saw the clawed head of the fire trap revolving. She dove off the last rock. The fireball missed the Dunmer as she landed in a roll, unsheathing Ebony Blade as she straightened. The daedroth finally noticed its opponents and roared. The beast lumbered forward, dagger-like claws splayed, with startling speed.

However the two Dunmer weren't cowed and closed the distance between them and the daedroth. The both began to circle it, staying opposite each other. Ethyra struck first, thrusting her spear into its ribs. The daedroth hissed, turning its attention to her and giving Renae the opportunity to duck in close and slice at the daedroth's soft underbelly. She jumped back immediately as the daedroth whirled to attack her, but wasn't completely out of range. The daedroth swiped at Renae as she sprang back again, nicking her collarbones, neck, cheek and temple.

Biting back a hiss, Renae continued to circle. Ethyra mirrored her movements. The daedroth lunged for Renae as she came into its full vision, but the Dunmer was quicker this time. Renae even got a blow in of her own - swinging Ebony Blade with speed and strength to bite deep into its wrist.

They continued in this fashion, wearing down the daedroth's fatigue and patience. As it lost more blood, its reflexes dulled; as it lost patience, it attacked without thinking. In a final act of desperation, it lunged at Ethyra with a snarl. Quick and clear-headed Ethyra dropped to the ground and thrust upward with her spear with all her strength. The beast roared in pain and the half-blinded Renae jumped on its back to plunge her own weapon in as far she could. With a final howl that turned into a choked gurgle, the daedroth keeled over. Renae held onto one of its spines until the beast was completely inert, then reached a hand up to her bleeding face and muttered a healing spell. The cuts healed over and Renae wiped her face on her sleeve then blinked to get the blood out of her eye.

Lastly Renae pulled Ebony Blade out of the daedroth and cleaned it as best she could. When she finally sheathed her katana and looked around, Renae found that their entire party were examining the corpse. She jumped down off its back and addressed everyone. "Shall we?"

Renae led the group around the mines and fire turrets, showing them exactly what to look for, and dispatched a few Daedra. When they reached the door to the tower, Renae stopped and turned around. "Remember, there aren't many Daedra in one place, but if even one sounds the alarm, then all the Daedra nearby will swarm our position," she informed them. "The point? Kill everything in sight as quickly as possible."

When there were sounds of acknowledgment from every person, Renae turned back around and pushed the door open. Two clannfears and a kynval looked up, surprise turning to bloodlust as they saw the intruders. Burd rushed forward with Renae flanking him to take on the dremora. All the others went for the clannfears. It was an unfair fight really, with the Daedra being quickly silenced.

As their enemies died, the senses of the Men and Mer broadened and there were many sounds of shock and revulsion. The group stood stock still, staring in disgusted awe at the room around them. The only sounds were their shaky breathing and the _drip, drip_ of blood obeying the call of gravity.

Renae remembered the layout of this tower. The grotesque meat grinder in the centre which also doubled as an elevator. The spikes rising from the pond of blood and innards to reach towards the ceiling. The cage with the limp body. The thin walkway between the towers. Thankfully there wasn't as much blood and gore coating every surface this time.

"Everyone on the platform," Renae commanded, breaking the silence and their reverie. She didn't wait to see if her companions obeyed; instead Renae searched for the operating switch.

"Why?" asked her shadow called Burd, who was plainly dubious.

"It's the only way to get to the higher levels," Renae replied, "unless you know a levitation spell." Her eyes scanned the dark walls for. . .

_Aha!_ She thought as she jogged towards the switch.

"Those are only legal in Morrowind and the Summerset Isle," Bor pointed out.

"Exactly," Aryn said.

Ethyra - who had been the only one to actually move on to the meat grinder - rolled her eyes.

_Men_, she thought scathingly. "So are you just going to stand there or are you going to come to the top of the tower?"

Burd glanced back to Renae for reconfirmation. Bor and Soren looked at their commander. Aryn walked cautiously onto the platform with a grimace.

Renae rested her hand on the bloody switch. "You have fifteen seconds before I flick the switch."

That seemed to satisfy Burd, so he turned and strode purposefully to the platform with Bor and Soren in tow. When they were on and ready, Renae pulled down on the lever.

The platform ascended much quicker than the previous one had. Renae cursed and bolted much like she had the last time. Different from last time, however, was that despite the Dunmer didn't slip over once, the platform was _higher up_. With nothing to use as a springboard, Renae simply changed from running to jumping. Her -- thankfully -- gloved fingers slipped on the bloody platform for a few frightening moments before Bor and Ethyra each grabbed one of her arms and hauled her up. Renae looked at both of them gratefully.

"You're as nimble as a mountain lioness," Burd complimented. Renae inclined her head in acknowledgment, but still said nothing.

Ethyra clapped her cousin on the shoulder. "I don't think I've ever seen you perform the running jump that well before."

"You learn pretty quickly here," Renae replied. "But I shouldn't have needed to do that. . . It shouldn't have risen so fast. . ." she trailed off, thinking hard. Why had the other platform, which had held no extra weight on it, risen slower than this one?

She looked around; searching for any clue, but none presented itself. So for the rest of the trip upward, Renae listed the similarities and differences between the two rooms and scenarios in her mind to try and find something.

~.~.~

Aryn felt his nerves tingle and the hair rise on the back of his neck. Acting on instinct, he yanked Renae and Burd backwards. The three of them fell back into Ethyra, Bor and Soren; everyone landed in a heap as a trident blade swung down from the ceiling. Aryn watched the graceful arcs of the mace-like weapon and thanked the Almsivi for that moment of insight. His career in the Morag Tong allowed his imagination to accurately describe what would happen if the blade slammed into anyone.

No one dared move an inch, even as the swinging slowed into easily predictable and dodge-able sweeps, for the unrealistic fear that the chain holding the trident blade up will snap. Aryn noted that while the trident blade lost its momentum quickly, it took an incredibly long time to fall completely inert. Or was it simply his nerves stretching those few minutes into unbearable hours?

Renae, as usual, was the first to break the paralysis over her body. Aryn felt a stab of jealousy as she began to haul the nearest person up. _How come she is always the first to recover?_! He mentally growled, and then abruptly felt ashamed. Not only was Renae his friend but she had previous experience with the Deadlands and its tricks. And that was without mentioning any of the horrors she as an Ashlander must have faced.

"Impeccable timing, Redoran," Renae praised with a smile as she offered her hand. Aryn took it, bottling all of his feelings. He had no time for envy or regret now.

They fell back into their order - Renae and Burd at the head of the party, being both leaders and the sword fighters. Then came Ethyra with her Spear of Bitter Mercy to protect the archers, who were at the rear. Various weapons held in ready hands, the group proceeded warily around the trident blade then up the inclined hallway. They came to an empty worship room, which Burd found suspicious.

A shrill cry sailed out from a shadowed corner. Every head turned to see the scamp pointing and chirping. Ethyra was the first to leap forward, spear angled at its torso. The creature scampered away with a burst of unexpected speed. Ethyra gave chase, although it was unnecessary as--

_Shing! _

The scamp was skewered on three spears that flew out from the wall. She rolled her eyes at the creature's stupidity and walked back to the group. Surprisingly they weren't positioning themselves to fend off the Daedra that had no doubt heard the scamp's alarm, but were instead watching curiously as Renae dug the tip of Ebony Blade into some sort of fleshy pod suspended on a tripod of black claw-like spikes. Ethyra initially felt this was stupid because the Daedra could arrive at any time; but when she saw runes carved on the black frame, her own curiosity overruled logic.

"The Punished," she read as Renae pulled Ebony Blade down, making a large incision in the dark red membrane. The air was filled with curiosity. She stuck a gloved hand into the gap and enclosed her fingers around the nearest object.

Renae held up an aristocratic dress in the most lurid shade of pink known to Man, Mer and Beastfolk. Her expression was priceless.

Two seconds later, the room was filled with howls of laughter. Ethyra laughed so hard she had to lean heavily on her Spear of Bitter Mercy to keep upright.

"'The Punished' indeed," Bor chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes. "For once Dagon had the right of things!"

It took another minute before everyone had completely calmed down.

"Alright, playtime's over! Archers in the middle of the room where you can clearly see the doorways. Ethyra, you're archer babysitter," Renae barked.

"I'll take that entry," Burd said, pointing at a doorway. It was as much to save face from being ordered as it was his initiative showing.

Renae nodded and trotted to the other doorway - the one they had come through. She positioned herself so she was standing beside the archway, invisible to someone charging down the corridor. In Renae's main arsenal she had the dress - which she privately wanted to see destroyed - and Ebony Blade. She considered putting Goldbrand on the ground where it would be more easily accessible, but then decided to stick to one blade. It would be easier to use her full strength wielding only one weapon.

The sound of heavy boots and shrill cries carried both a warning and the promise of a fight. When the first clannfear walked through the doorway, Renae threw the dress over it. It let out a muffled squawk of indignation as arrows few past it to lodge themselves in the Daedra behind it.

The clannfear had trouble shearing through the lace and frills, so it barked and two more clannfears came to its aid. Renae gleefully watched the dress' destruction until a dremora hurtled into her vision, at which she put herself back together. Renae wasted no time thrusting Ebony Blade into his exposed neck as he tried to rush into the room.

Two more dremora appeared. One was shot down, and Renae kicked the dead churl off her katana and into the remaining kynval. She swiftly cut his throat, and then turned to take care of the clannfears. The two assistants were dead, but the first creature was still struggling with the gown. Renae returned to her first position, skewering a scamp in the process.

Two more waves of Daedra later, and the clannfear had nearly freed itself from its pink prison. Renae kept half of her attention on it and the other on the eerily empty hallway. An arrow whizzed through her peripheral vision and slid into the beast's eye. It collapsed with a small squawk. Renae turned her full attention to the still-deserted hallway and waited, and waited.

"I don't think any more will come soon," Bor said. "Let's make a move while we can."

"Agreed," Aryn seconded.

"Renae," Burd asked, "how far are we from the top of the tower?"

The Dunmer thought for a few moments, counting the levels she went through last time and how many they'd gone through so far. "If the layout is the same, only three more levels until we're at the sigil stone."

"That's that. Let's go," Burd ordered.

Refreshed after that bit of entertainment, they continued onward.

~.~.~

"Are you sure it's safe?" Burd asked for the third time.

Renae resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Nords were big babies when it came to fire. She removed her right gauntlet and thrust her hand into the flames enveloping the sigil stone. The dancing tendrils of yellow barely tickled her hand. When no blisters or burns appeared after fifteen seconds, Burd finally thrust his own fully enclosed hand into the flames while Bor and Soren watched anxiously. The Nord's fingers closed around the stone and wrenched it from its pedestal.

The harmless fire violently exploded, burning the tower around them. And they were falling.

Renae heard the panicked voices of her companions, but found her own jaw locked. The calm assurances that they would survive died in her throat as she fought the panic rising in her stomach. She had no reason to believe that anything different would happen this time, but the back of her mind believed otherwise. So Renae just shut her eyes and prayed to her ancestors.

Her knees buckled as they hit firm ground. _Cold_ ground. Renae's ruby eyes snapped open and saw with relief they were back outside Bruma. Renae never thought she'd be so happy to see the snow-covered Jerrall Mountains. A glance over at her fellow Dunmer showed they felt the same.


	12. Spell Breaker

_Author's Notes:_ I know this barely counts as a chapter, but I'm having trouble sequencing the next part of the story and I wanted to post something. Also, upon glancing over my early chapters, I shudder at the horrible grammar and aspects of Renae's character that have since changed in between the three years since I started writing this (eg. how friendly she is to people and how she speaks). So I'll be fixing those up sometime.

**Chapter 12 - Spell Breaker**

After accepting thanks from the guards, the Dunmer had made their way up the cliff - which had felt steeper than usual - to Cloud Ruler Temple. The climb had felt so grueling that Ethyra and Renae hadn't complained about the churlish Breton called Jauffre or the inadequacies of guards -- they were too out of breath to make a peep. When they had finally arrived, they reported to Jauffre that Bruma was safe again and had quickly retreated to get some rest.

Now Renae pulled out her blanket from her pack, and accidentally knocked over Spell Breaker. She froze, though not because of the clang. Her gloved fingers lightly brushed against the smooth golden surface of her shield. _Could I do it?_ She challenged herself. _Could I give up such a useful item?_

The Dunmer hesitated, torn. She really liked Spell Breaker – it was a fabulous shield. However, she rarely used it since she had a flair for using two weapons at once and it was too hard to sneak with such a bulky item.

Renae sighed and ran a loving hand over the polished surface, then sank onto her bedroll and pulled the thick blanket over herself. Giving up such a beautiful item could wait until she was decently rested.

~.~.~

Jauffre stared at Baurus incredulously. "You couldn't find anything on Renae? Not her past, her occupation? _Nothing_?"

"No, Baurus found information," Martin corrected, "but it isn't what you're interested in."

"Yes, sir," Baurus affirmed.

Jauffre sighed, but said, "Report."

Baurus took a deep breath and ran through the information he had organised in his mind. "The full charges that landed Renae in the Imperial Prison were breaking and entering the Arcane University, trespassing on the Arcane University, theft of Hrormir's Icestaff and attempted breaking and entering of Ontus Vanin's house. Reportedly Renae has been in Cyrodiil for ten months, coming from Vvardenfell. She owns a house in Skingrad--"

"She has a house in one of the most expensive cities after only ten months of being in Cyrodiil?" Jauffre raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Renae is known for exploring Ayleid ruins - it's dangerous but very lucrative," Baurus answered, then continued, "that's all the solid information we have on her. Our spy network has seen her often on the Waterfront or the Market District. However," he furrowed his brow, "the beggars in the Imperial City were most evasive or claimed they didn't know much about her, which is odd. They know almost every person who walks through the gates, especially one who spends time on the Waterfront."

"So you think they're hiding something for her?" Jauffre hypothesized.

"It's a possibility," Baurus admitted. "Or she really is secretive."

Jauffre glanced at Martin. "Your Highness, what do you think of this?"

_That it'll end badly if you dig too deep_, Martin thought. He worded his answer very carefully, "While it may be good to learn more about our allies, I don't think they would appreciate our energy being diverted to investigating _them_ rather than the Mythic Dawn. Stopping the Prince of Destruction is more important than learning the secrets of those aiding us. The last thing we want to do is alienate Renae and her friends."

Jauffre pursed his lips, looking rather disgruntled. "As you wish, Sire."

~.~.~

A click made Martin jerk up from his notes. He was much more edgy than he used to be, with good reason. His eyes zeroed in on the source of the click and saw Renae shutting the door leading from the west wing. Strangely, her hair wasn't up in its usual complicated 'stick twist', but cascading down her back. She approached with Spell Breaker, the beautifully wrought Dwemer shield. Behind Martin, Baurus sucked in a breath.

"You said we need a Daedric artifact," Renae explained. It looked like she was forcing the words out from behind clenched teeth.

"You would offer Spell Breaker?" Martin asked, surprise colouring his tone.

"Would I be here otherwise?" she asked sharply.

Martin eyes her carefully. From what he knew of reading body language and the extra intuition granted by his Dragonblood, it was obvious she didn't want to part with her shield. He felt he should warn her, test the fragile certitude she had of giving up Spell Breaker. "Remember, the ritual will consume the shield's physical form. It won't be seen again on Tamriel for many years."

Renae nodded once. She hefted the shield in her hands one last time, feeling the smooth metal and the slick coating of its enchantments. Then Renae held it out.

The priest carefully pried Spell Breaker from her grasp, feeling the moment of resistance before she let it slide out of her fingers. "Not many people would give up Spell Breaker for destruction," Martin mused. The Spell Breaker - the mystical shield from legend. Despite how he felt about Renae now, he continued, "Your sacrifice honours me."

"Anything else?" Renae asked bluntly, stealing one last look at her beloved shield.

"You should find Ethyra and Aryn," he replied, ignoring her expression. "We need to discuss the next item needed for the portal."

Renae turned and vanished in a swish of dark hair.

Baurus commented quietly, "The Spell Breaker. Really makes you wonder what she's been up to."

Martin glanced up at his bodyguard. "It does, doesn't it?"


End file.
